


8 Makes 1 Team

by Yukio



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Boys Being There for Each Other, Boys In Love, Character Death, Depression, Friendship, Grieving, Loss, M/M, Memories of Good Times, Police investigation, Trauma, mentions of drugs and prostitution, mentions of thoughts of suicide, mentions of violance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 45,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26545369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yukio/pseuds/Yukio
Summary: When San loses the love of his life, it feels as if he lost part of his soul. He stopped living in the present, too fixated on the happy past. Even when his team members are trying hard to help him, San can't find his way back to them. He's too lost in his grief and anger with the unfairness of the world. If the team wants to survive, it has only two options now: getting San back from the dark place he has been in for months or accepting a new member. But will they still be 8 that makes 1 team?
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, minor Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa - Relationship
Comments: 14
Kudos: 78





	1. Lost in Time

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really happy that I finished this story finally. First of all, I want nothing bad to happen to any of the members and I wish them long and happy life. I hope they will make our lives better for many more years ^^
> 
> I want to thank my dear friend Chercherin for inspiring this story and helping me to not get lost in the timeliness. Also big thank you to Ravenshell for checking my grammar. Thank you both!
> 
> I'm not good at writing notes, so I'll leave it at this. Enjoy the story!

San looked around the doctor’s white office. It felt sterile, but something about it made him feel relaxed. He felt safe here. And yet vulnerable right to his core. The mint green couch he was sitting on was the only colorful piece of furnishing in the room, a crack of light in the emptiness he had been living in for so long.

He looked at the doctor. She gave him an encouraging smile as she kept peeling away layer after layer of his inner walls. He couldn’t even count how many times he had cried here, had cried in general. And then, one day, the tears suddenly stopped.

“You’ve made great progress, San,” the doctor said in her honeyed voice. She had always been so nice to him. Never rushed him, but gave him time to process his own feelings. She led him gently through the initial storm of emotions.

He had been angry. For heaven’s sake, he had been so, so angry! He had wanted to rip the whole world apart for its unfairness. Why did bad things always happen to the best people?

He was still angry and he doubted he would ever get rid of that feeling, but it became blunt just like the pain. San felt that he started being passive. He didn’t like that about himself, but the apathy felt like a blanket protecting him from dealing with the hurtful reality. His heart was still bleeding and San doubted it would ever heal again.

He felt like he had ceased existing. His soul was gone. He did what was expected of him, got up every morning, brushed his teeth, ate his meals, spent time with the rest of his team. But nothing of it felt real anymore. San lived in some kind of limbo, watched the world through some transparent veil that separated him from the rest of the world.

He went to therapy. He had hoped it would help him to restart his life, but no matter what he did, he felt stuck. He couldn’t let go of the past that held him back, couldn’t find the courage to take the next step forward. The future held nothing for him anymore.

“What else have you written in your diary?” the doctor asked gently.

Right, the diary. San was supposed to document his life, the activities he had engaged himself in throughout the day. He strictly kept them in a form of short notes, because if he tried to write more, he would think too much about them and thinking wasn’t good. Thinking hadn’t done him any good lately.

“Er… I… played a game with the members yesterday,” he said, nervously flipping through the pages of the notebook in his lap. He knew what the doctor was going to ask him and he really didn’t feel like talking about it more than necessary. “It was nice,” he added quickly.

The doctor nodded and wrote something down. “What game was it?” she asked.

San bit his lip. He needed a few seconds to remember and he still wasn’t sure he was right. He was there, he played the game, interacted with the others, but the moment the game was over, he let it slip out of his mind like anything else he didn’t consider important.

“It was… Scrabble…” he said slowly, looking at the doctor as if she would know the right answer to her own question.

“It sounds like fun,” she said, nodding appreciatively.

“Yes… I guess,” he said with a deep sigh. He was tired of these kinds of questions, even though he understood their importance. He wished he could give his doctor more than those vague glimpses into his inner world, but there was nothing left within him. Just the shards of lost hopes.

***

“What’s going on?” Yunho asked as he entered the living room in their dormitory. Other members were already there, among them Hongjoong looking dead serious. And even that was an understatement.

“Have a seat,” the leader said, and Yunho took a place next to Mingi. The rapper looked as nervous as the tallest member of the team felt.

“I wanted to talk to you before San returns from therapy,” Hongjoong started, fisting his hands resting on his thighs. “And I need your advice, because I have no idea how to approach him with this. I asked the manager not to tell him anything. I think it’s for the best if we tell him ourselves…”

“Hyung, you’re rambling,” Yunho said, watching their leader, who avoided looking at them and started pulling on the hem of his hoodie nervously. “Tell us what the problem is first.”

“Oh…” Hongjoong glanced at him, but he looked away quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, we’re in this together,” Yunho tried to encourage their leader, but he felt fear rising within him. Something was wrong. But nothing had been right for a long time already. They had been hanging in this vacuum, waiting for some change to come, and now, when it seemed it was finally here, Yunho was afraid. And he knew he wasn’t alone.

Hongjoong took a deep breath. “The thing is,” he started again, raising his eyes to their faces, but casting his look down again as though he couldn’t bear the heaviness of their worries. “The company has been considering giving us a new member,” he said in the end, and when he looked at them again, his eyes were wet. “It’s not official yet. They want to hear our opinion first, but I’m not sure how much they would care about it in the end.”

There was silence for a few heartbeats before Mingi asked in a small voice, “They can’t do that, can they?”

“They obviously can if they’re considering it,” Yeosang said, sounding annoyed.

“Guys,” Hongjoong took the floor again, “I know what you think. But it’s our future we need to take into consideration. The few covers and videos we released and streams through V LIVE are not going to help our careers. We need to start producing music again. And soon, if we don’t want to end up disbanded.”

“That’s actually true,” Yeosang said. “It’s been seven months already and we haven’t released a single new song. The company gave us enough time to recover and it was just a matter of time before they’d come up with something like this…”

“What are you talking about?” Mingi asked, outraged. “There’s no way to recover from… THIS!” He spat the last word as though it was venom.

“Mingi, calm down, please,” Hongjoong said, pleading eyes on the rapper. “We’ll talk about this later. As for right now, I want you to help me think of the best way to tell San about this. I know he won’t agree, but I’m afraid the information could seriously hurt him…”

“I don’t see why we should include him in this, then,” Yeosang said. “He’s living in his own world and he barely takes notice of what we do.”

“Yeosang, it’s only fair telling him…” Hongjoong said quietly, his voice lacking the certainty of the old days.

“Fair?” Yeosang’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing’s fair anymore, hyung. I don’t want to argue with you, but San is not the only one hurting. And I’m sorry for being this blunt, but his opinion has little value to me right now. If he is even able to have any opinions at all,” he said, unshed tears glistening in his brown eyes. “And I know that some of you won’t like what I’m going to say, but a new member is maybe for the better. And if San is not coming back to us… What else is there left?”

Deep silence fell, disturbed only by the heavy breathing of the other members, and it felt as though everyone was scared to say anything after Yeosang’s unexpected outburst.

“Thank you for your opinion,” Hongjoong said finally, sounding tired. “You have a good point…”

Mingi’s eyes widened. “How _dare_ you?” he cried, standing up abruptly, his fist missing Seonghwa’s nose only narrowly. The eldest member pulled away from the outraged rapper. “Yeosang just said that San is seriously mentally disturbed and has no say in what’s going to happen to the team and that letting a stranger into our _family_ is the best solution to our problems. That’s utter bullshit!” He was shaking with fury. “You are right about one thing, though. There’s no way San would agree with this nonsense and I agree with him. Because _eight makes one team_. EIGHT. Not fucking nine,” he said, his eyes flashing with angry fire.

“Mingi…” Hongjoong said quietly, standing up as well, but Mingi wasn’t listening to him anymore. He turned around, walking out of the room and not looking back. The leader didn’t stop him.

***

“How was therapy?” the manager asked as he drove through the city, taking San back to the dormitory.

San straightened up in the passenger seat, looking at the high buildings in front of them. “Same as ever. We talked about everything that happened since we had seen each other last time,” he answered truthfully.

The manager glanced at him. “How do you feel?” he asked, concern in his voice. San heard it, but he didn’t understand it. He was fine, wasn’t he? He didn’t have an emotional breakdown for some time already, so things were all right… Right?

“Tired,” he decided not to think about it too much and simply answer the question.

“When was the last time you practiced?” the manager continued in his questions, and this time, San needed a moment to think about it.

“Yesterday, I guess,” he said finally, still not looking at the man beside him. The truth was the dance practice the manager referred to could be any day. San was so lost in his inner world that he had no idea how the time went by. He got up in the morning and went to sleep in the evening and things happened in between, but they were nothing worth remembering. Of course, there were good days when he enjoyed being close to others, and bad days when he felt like his very own existence suffocated him. 

“Good,” the manager said and gave San a small, encouraging smile. “It’ll be okay, I promise. I just want you to keep practicing dancing and singing, okay? Can you do that?”

San shrugged. It was what he had been doing lately. He didn’t know why, but the team members insisted on it, so he did it, even though he saw no meaning in it anymore. He felt that the best step would have been leaving the group, but there were reasons why he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He couldn’t do it. Because eight made one team…

“I want you to stay in shape, San. You guys may start working on new things soon,” the manager continued. Gazing out of the window, San looked like he wasn’t listening, but for once, he was.

New things… He didn’t know how he felt about it, therefore he remained silent. He opened his notebook instead, pulled out a pen from the pocket of his hoodie and wrote down the note:

_The team may start working on new things._

***

The dormitory was rather quiet even though all the members were home. San could hear the clatter of dishes coming from the kitchen and hushed voices talking to each other – the sounds of a dying household.

Before, the dorm used to be a noisy place. The cacophony of music coming from at least two or three sources mixed with the sounds of videogames, Jongho’s singing, Mingi’s rapping, Yunho’s feet tapping on the floor as he danced or Wooyoung’s high-pitched laughter. San closed his eyes and tried to remember all those sounds. They were so distant now, so untrue.

He shook his head and locked the emotions connected to them in a silver box. He couldn’t let them out, because if he did, they would destroy him. It wasn’t so long ago when Hongjoong had told him that jumping off a bridge would solve nothing and that San shouldn’t even fucking DARE to think about it. That had been the first time San had heard Hongjoong using such strong words. The problem was he had no memory of saying anything like that out loud, but he did remember himself standing by the railing of a bridge and thinking what the fall through the emptiness would have felt like. Would he have seen his whole life in front of his eyes in those few seconds separating him from the end? Would he have been able to see in those fractions of time the moments when he had been the happiest? He wondered even now, but he was careful that no such thoughts got to the outside world. He locked them in his mind with many other things.

He started taking his shoes off when he heard steps approaching him and he knew exactly who they belonged to.

“Hi,” sounded Hongjoong’s soft voice. Whenever the leader was home, he never missed a chance to welcome San back and San was grateful. He was grateful to all the members for taking care of him, because without them, he wouldn’t even get up in the morning. The tragic thing was that he wasn’t able to tell the guys how much he appreciated their trouble. It felt like those words were locked inside of him together with his emotions. 

“Hi,” he greeted the leader back, his voice hollow. He could see that flicker of light in Hongjoong’s eyes diminish, but with his emotions under lock and key, San didn’t feel sad about it. He just knew he should. 

“How did it go?” Hongjoong asked, reaching for San’s notebook. San let him. He knew that Hongjoong was going to look for the page with the date and time of San’s next appointment with his therapist and then write it down in a calendar for him, because San had no freaking idea when it was supposed to be, if it was in a week or two or in a month. The flow of time didn’t make sense to him anymore.

“Nothing special, the same old thing,” he said, scratching in his hair. “She asked a lot of questions to most of which I didn’t even have an answer. It was tiring.”

“I’m sure that even your lack of answers told her a lot,” Hongjoong said soothingly, giving San another sad smile.

“Yeah, I guess,” San admitted.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to eat?” Hongjoong asked, and San needed to think about the question. He felt hunger, but he had stopped connecting it with food. Hunger was just a different type of emptiness and because San knew that he was never going to fill the empty space in his soul, he stopped caring about the one in his stomach as well.

“I’m fine,” he said in the end. He didn’t feel like getting anything down his throat at the moment. He still felt so raw from the therapy. “Maybe later,” he added and looked around as they proceeded deeper into the apartment. “Where are the others?”

“Mostly in their rooms. Yunho is on the terrace, though, I guess,” Hongjoong said. “Do you want to join him?”

San didn’t need to think about this question. He shook his head. “I’m really tired. I think I’ll just lie down on the couch for a bit. Will you turn the TV on for me?” he asked.

“Sure thing,” Hongjoong said, and they both entered the living room. San lay down on the couch, pulling a cushion under his head. He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the leader moving around him.

It was quiet at first. When the guys watched the TV, they always muted it before they turned it off, so that when they turned it on and San was close, he didn’t hear the news block that was possibly just on. It was a precaution based on experience. News was dangerous and unwelcome in San’s world. Especially a certain type of news. The type that no one really wanted to watch, but San was the only one in whom it had caused a nervous breakdown.

“It’s okay, you can open your eyes,” Hongjoong said, choosing a culinary channel – probably the safest one in the whole TV offerings – and unmuting the TV.

“Thank you,” San said, looking at the TV screen.

“No problem, Sannie. If you need anything, just call.” Hongjoong put the remote on the coffee table in front of them.

“I’m fine. Thank you, hyung,” San repeated. He wasn’t thanking him just for the TV that he was always so afraid to turn on and therefore someone had to do it for him, but for the leader’s care in general. He didn’t know if Hongjoong understood and maybe one day San would be able to thank him properly. As for now, he left it at this.

Hongjoong squeezed his shoulder a little before he let him rest and left the room. San heard him talking to someone, maybe to more than one person.

San sighed, watching as the man on the screen put meat on a pan, frying it for some time and explaining how to season it. The show was boring and exactly something San needed at the moment.

“Laaaaaame,” a familiar voice drawled from behind the backrest and soon after Wooyoung rolled over it and landed right on the boy stretched on the couch.

The moment Wooyoung’s body blanketed San’s, the older boy wrapped his arm around his best friend and pulled him even closer. He could move and make some space so that both of them could lie on the couch comfortably, but Wooyoung didn’t complain and San was comfortable enough to stay like he was.

“Don’t you want to watch something else?” Wooyoung asked, glancing at the TV, his hair tickling San under his nose.

“Like what? I like cooking.”

“You like eating,” Wooyoung corrected him. “There’s a rerun of Harry Potter on right now.”

“Which one?”

“The Prisoner of Azkaban.”

San stretched out his hand to the coffee table and grabbed the remote control. He switched the channel and the face of Emma Watson as Hermione explaining something to her two best friends who appeared on the screen.

“Good?” he asked.

“Very good,” Wooyoung purred contentedly. “I wanted to watch this with you.”

“What are you talking about? We’ve seen all of the movies at least three times,” San reminded him while stroking Wooyoung’s back absentmindedly.

“I wanted to watch this particular one at this very moment with you,” Wooyoung clarified, cuddling closer and hugging San around his chest.

San couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at his lips. “Okay,” he said softly, delivering a tiny kiss on the crown of Wooyoung’s head. Then he looked at the screen too, and enjoyed the movie with his most precious friend.


	2. The Life in the Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going through everyday life is almost an impossible task. How can one live when the other is not there?

San jerked out of his sleep, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling above his head, the rhythm of his breathing rapid. He tried to catch the last strings of his dream, thin and passing. He wanted them to stay with him, comfort him, bring him peace, but most importantly, keep him real. He felt like a shadow in the gray reality of everyday life. But his dreams… They remained colorful. Even nightmares kept their colors and haunted him for the rest of his dull days. 

He took a deep breath and sat up on the lower bunk of the bunk bed in the room he shared with Jongho at the moment. He was alone in the room right now, but he knew that sooner or later, someone would come to check on him.

He sighed, running his hand over his tired face, and got up from the bed.

“Mornin’,” Mingi’s lazy voice sounded from the door.

San looked at the rapper. Mingi must have woken up just moments ago, because he was still in his pajamas and his eyes were narrower than normal.

“Hi,” San greeted him, waiting for Mingi to say more.

“Um… I’m just on my way to the kitchen to have breakfast. Coming?” the rapper asked, leaning against the doorframe as if the poor thing was there only for him to support his body, longing for more sleep.

“I need to use the bathroom first. I’ll come after that,” San answered.

“Promise?” Mingi asked, the question justified by the experience of San’s tendency of going back to bed despite his words.

“Yeah, promise.” The words slipped easily out of San’s lips. It was easy to give promises and mean them, even easier to break them a few minutes later, because the world outside the protective walls of his room was suddenly too suffocating. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He did and felt bad for letting the others down, but there were times when it was stronger than his will, stronger than his love.

“Pinky swear?” Mingi raised his hand, his little finger stuck out. He looked at San with hope.

San hesitated for a moment. He really didn’t want his friend to be disappointed in case he went back on his word because of the darkness in San’s mind, ready to take him over once again.

“Okay,” he said slowly when Mingi’s finger didn’t disappear from his vision. Raising his own hand, he hooked his pinky with the rapper’s and watched as his friend’s face lit up.

“Great, I’ll wait for you in the kitchen. What do you want to eat?”

“I don’t know yet,” San said, already starting feeling tired. It was too much thinking for someone who just got up and only wanted to use bathroom in peace.

“Never mind. We can think of something together,” Mingi said, forced cheerfulness in his voice.

“Sure,” San said. “Can I go now? I really need to…”

“Yeah, yeah, of course!” Mingi got out of his way and San left the room.

“I’ll be waiting!” the rapper called after him.

San didn’t react to it, but when he entered the bathroom, he was determined to do one good thing today. He would fight hard to keep his promise.

***

Mingi truly waited for him to have their breakfast together. He wanted to make San choose one of three possible meals, but because San didn’t care about what he was going to eat, the rapper chose what he preferred and made breakfast for both of them while talking animatedly to San. San didn’t understand what Mingi wanted from him, but it was the first time someone talked to him without pity in their eyes, in their voice, in their words. And it felt kind of refreshing. San felt the corners of his mouth turn up in the slightest of a smile.

San and Mingi weren’t the only ones in the kitchen. Jongho was making strong coffee for anyone who felt they needed it, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were huddled over their own breakfast, talking about their schedules, and Yeosang was quiet, probably deep in thought while eating his own meal, because he barely spared a glance in San and Mingi’s general direction.

Mingi wanted to make an omelet, but it was Jongho in the end who prepared their breakfast so that the kitchen didn’t get burned down accidentally. After Jongho was done, Mingi had his moment of glory while dividing the omelet on two plates and served one of them to San with a big smile on his face.

“Thank you,” San said simply and started eating.

“I hope you’ll like it,” Mingi said as if he had been the one making the food.

“It’s good,” San praised the cook, his eyes finding Jongho.

The youngest member of the team gave him a weak smile and returned to his coffee.

“What smells so nice here?” Yunho entered the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“I made San an omelet for breakfast,” Mingi said proudly.

“You did?” Jongho asked, as he turned to the rapper, narrowing his eyes at him.

“I served it!” Mingi corrected himself, but the pride didn’t leave his voice.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa stopped talking and watched the conversation. San ate his omelet as if nothing was going on. He noticed Hongjoong giving him a smile, but Yeosang barely glanced at the others, then stood up and walked out of the kitchen while Yunho joined the members at the table.

“How are you doing, San?” Yunho asked as he sat down.

San shrugged. He didn’t like the question, because the answer was too complicated and definitely not the one all of them wanted to hear. “I slept well,” he decided to say in the end. The statement was truthful and hopeful at the same time.

“That’s good,” Yunho said and snatched a piece of Mingi’s omelet.

“Hey! Make your own food!” the rapper protested.

“You didn’t make even that one,” Seonghwa intervened from the other side of the table.

“But I served it with honor,” Mingi announced, but when Jongho sat down next to him and pulled Mingi’s plate in front of himself, the rapper remained quiet, smiling awkwardly as Jongho tasted the food he had made.

“Yeah, San’s right. The omelet is good. Eat it with honor as well, hyung,” the strongest member of the team said, slapping Mingi’s back.

The rapper coughed and then smiled, taking chopsticks and finally starting to eat. Everyone snickered at him except San, who ate his breakfast silently.

“What’s up with Yeosang?” he asked when the others calmed down again.

The atmosphere in the kitchen changed. The members exchanged looks.

“He didn’t sleep well and was tired,” Hongjoong said, but San knew there was more to that, they just didn’t want to tell him. So he asked nothing more.

“San?” Yunho addressed him, and San raised his look from his meal one more time. “Would you like to go out a little? We could go for a walk or buy ice cream. Whatever you want.”

San turned back to his meal. “I should practice. The manager told me to practice dancing and singing. He said something about us starting to work on new things.”

There was silence for a few seconds, which San ignored as he kept eating. He didn’t know if he had just said something new to the members, but it wasn’t important to him.

“Practice sounds good,” Yunho said, sounding cautious. “Mingi, will you join us?”

“Y-yeah. Could be fun,” the rapper stuttered.

San didn’t care about the conversations at the table anymore and when he was asked something, he gave only a short answer. After he finished his meal, he washed the dishes and went to his room to get ready for the day.

***

“Do you want me to cover the mirrors?” Yunho asked the moment they stepped into the practice room.

San looked at his own reflection in one of them, seeing just a shadow of the person he had used to be. His skin was pale and eyes empty, lacking the ever-present spark from the old days. San didn’t know that young man and he felt oddly disconnected from him.

He looked away from the mirror at his two friends.

“I think I’ll be fine. If anything goes wrong, I’ll tell you,” he said, his voice blank.

Yunho’s question was legitimate. San could recall that sad moment when the whole group had gathered in the room for their first practice after _that_ day and he just couldn’t bear looking at them. All of them were completely different people now, changed by the turn of fate. Having looked at them, having looked at himself, San had had a nervous breakdown – not his first one and not his last one, either. Things were rough and everyone tried hard to deal with them the best they could.

Only San had the feeling that he was constantly failing. He didn’t feel much better ever since the first month and the only difference was that the pain was blunt instead of sharp, but all the more damaging. It was hard coming back from the abyss of hopelessness when he could find no rope to climb up.

He kept staring into the mirror, seeing his friends in the reflection. Mingi went to the computer to choose a playlist for their practice while Yunho came up to San from behind, pulling him into a hug.

“Are you okay?” he asked, pressing his cheek to San’s.

“Not really, but it’s not so bad. I think you can leave the mirrors uncovered,” said San, as he tilted his head backwards, laying it on Yunho’s shoulder.

The first tones of a song sounded. San didn’t think much of whose song it was as long as it wasn’t from a certain band. Yunho started swaying to the tune lightly and because he was holding San in his arms, the shorter boy danced with him.

“I know it’ll take a lot of time, but we’ll be okay in the end,” Yunho said in his ear. “Do you know how I know? Because we are strong. We’ve always been. I know it’s nothing but shit now, but one day the sun will shine and the rainbow will appear in the sky.”

San sighed quietly. “You know that you need rain to make a rainbow.”

“You have that rain, San. We all have it and it will never disappear, I know,” Yunho continued softly. “But it’s on us to turn the downpour into a soft spring rain. And until we do that, we have to be careful not to get drenched too much, even though it’s hard.”

San felt pressure on his chest at Yunho’s words. He raised his head and breathed in. “How am I supposed to not get drenched when my umbrella is broken?” he asked, the blankness of his tone disrupted by a light touch of anger.

He freed himself from Yunho’s arms and walked a few steps away from him. He started dancing, his moves fluent and well trained, but lacking heart. San, the dancer who had always poured his very soul into his dancing, turned into San the puppet.

***

“How was dance practice?” Hongjoong asked with a slightly nervous smile after the trio had returned home and was now looking for something to drink in the kitchen.

“It was all right, I guess,” San said after a little consideration. The practice itself had been good. He had moved, he had danced, he had practiced. What he hadn’t done was talk to his friends, because he felt tired of interactions, encouraging words and hopes of other people that he would finally get better. He was not getting better. He was stuck in one place and he had no idea how to move forward. Because he didn’t want to move forward. If he did that, he would lose the things he wasn’t ready to let go of just yet. He doubted he would ever be.

His eyes found Yeosang, who stood by the kitchen unit. He still looked upset about something, maybe upset with San, because when their eyes met, Yeosang’s narrowed a little.

San broke the eye contact and looked at Hongjoong again. “I’m sorry, hyung, I’m tired. I’m going to get some rest,” he said, already feeling the starting headache.

Hongjoong nodded and San turned around, heading for his room.

He didn’t get far when he heard Hongjoong’s voice again.

“How was it for real?” the leader asked.

“Awkward,” Mingi said. “We didn’t talk unless it was necessary. We just danced. That was all.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Yeosang’s voice sounded softer than San would have expected, judging from the way he had looked at San in the kitchen. “I wouldn’t tell him anything unless there’s no other option. He doesn’t know what’s going on around him, anyway. You may trigger something you won’t like.”

“You can’t just cut him out, Yeosang. That’s not right. He’s part of the team…” Mingi said, his voice strong and annoyed. San understood they were talking about him. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He knew he made them worried and upset. He knew they stood by his side, but was also aware that they had their own lives, their own problems and he was holding them back. He knew all of that and still couldn’t find the strength to unlock his heart and live again.

“He’s not part of our team anymore, Mingi,” Yeosang said with emphasis. “Only his body is.”

The words were spoken the moment San reached the door of his room. He stopped there, grabbing the handle.

_He’s not part of our team, only his body is._

The words resonated in his mind, worming their way into his heart.

_He’s not part of our team…_

San’s head started throbbing with pain, memories flashing in front of his eyes.

Yeosang entered the hall where the doors into the rooms were, meeting San there. They looked at each other.

“You heard everything, didn’t you?” Yeosang asked, and he didn’t sound sorry at all.

“Yes,” San answered shortly.

“Do you even care?”

The question took San off guard. Of course he cared about the team, but there were just so many things he wasn’t ready to deal with. He didn’t know he had been alienating himself from the others so much. And the scariest part was that the revelation did nothing to him, no guilt, no shame, no nothing.

“I…” he started, not sure what he wanted to say.

Yeosang shook his head, anger leaving his face. Suddenly, he looked very sad and exhausted. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. We all are doing what we can to hold our shit together.” He looked away at the swear word. Then he turned away from San and continued to his room.

“I’m sorry,” San said quietly, but Yeosang heard. Their eyes met once again.

“No, you’re not,” Yeosang said and disappeared behind the door.

***

“What are you doing?” Wooyoung’s voice boomed in the room and San opened his eyes lazily.

“I’m lying on my bed. What do you think?”

“Waiting for me,” Wooyoung said cheerfully, a big grin splitting his face as he climbed up the bunk bed to San.

“Yeah, sure,” San said sarcastically. “I’m resting. I had dance practice.”

“Did you train hard?” Wooyoung continued in his stupid questions while settling next to San, who shifted a little, making a place for him.

“I usually train hard, don’t I?” San said, watching Wooyoung getting comfortable. He noticed sparkles in Wooyoung’s eyes and he could guess why his younger soulmate had come. “Are you bored again?” he asked, a suppressed grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Wooyoung’s smile disappeared. “Are you trying to offend me?”

San couldn’t hold his smile anymore. He put his arm around Wooyoung and nuzzled his face. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good. Remember that,” Wooyoung said as if giving an order. His expression softened after that, however, as he looked at San again. The sparkles were back in his eyes, but he hid them behind his eyelids as he pulled a little closer, his lips brushing San’s in a butterfly kiss. “I missed this,” he whispered before he connected with San in a proper open-mouthed kiss.

San sighed quietly, wrapping his other arm around Wooyoung as well. Wooyoung’s kisses were the best. They rocked his world and left him breathless. They reminded him there was someone who cared about him very much. They made him believe that anything was possible with Wooyoung by his side.

He breathed in sharply and then moaned into his lover’s mouth when Wooyoung’s hand caressed him between his legs. He broke the kiss, glancing at the door.

“We shouldn’t do this now. The guys are home,” he whispered.

“Actually, they aren’t. We’re alone,” Wooyoung said with a wide grin.

“How come?” San asked confused. “I know that Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Yeosang have their schedule, but the rest are still here… right?” He looked at the door again.

Wooyoung’s grin just widened. “I sent Mingi and Yunho for a long walk and Jongho is a true friend. You mention the word ‘sex’ in front of him and he takes his iPod and leaves. We have at least an hour until they get back,” he said, rolling up his T-shirt right away and pulling it off of his body.

San raised an eyebrow while his hands touched the naked skin. “Are we going to have sex?”

“Aren’t we?” Wooyoung asked as he bent over him and the sparks in his eyes turned into small flames.

San smiled, caressing his boyfriend’s chest. “Mmmm, we definitely are.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Wooyoung purred contentedly and connected their mouths in a sensual kiss.

They were already so good at taking each other’s clothes off that they needed barely half a minute to get completely naked. Drunk from the excitement circulating in their veins, their bodies engaged in a passionate dance. The temperature around them rose and the loud moans and cries of pleasure carried through the empty apartment.

San held eye contact, drowning in the eyes of his lover, who never averted his gaze. The look of Wooyoung’s eyes was soft and warm; he looked at the older boy as if San was his greatest treasure. Only Wooyoung made San feel as if he was the most important person in the whole universe. He knew the exact number of freckles on San’s neck and all his birthmarks. San was even sure that if he ever had asked how many eyelashes rimmed his eyelids, Wooyoung would have known even that. Because that was so Wooyung. He knew every little detail about San. He knew what he liked and disliked, what made him happy or sad. He was interested in San’s hobbies and encouraged him when San felt self-conscious. He was there for him no matter what, making San feel like he was never going to be alone in his life.

San loved him for all of that and for many other things. He loved him completely and unconditionally and he wanted Wooyoung to feel as safe with him as he felt with Wooyoung. He wanted to give him everything Wooyoung needed and was looking for. San knew what made his boyfriend tick. He learned to attune to Wooyoung’s moods and knew when it was still safe to demand his attention and when it was better to leave him alone. He never tried to take his freedom away, knowing how much Wooyoung loved company and meeting his friends outside of the group. San joined him many times and many times, he let Wooyoung go alone, knowing how important it was strengthening the friendly bonds without his boyfriend around. San only wanted Wooyoung to be happy.

He cuddled up to his lover lying next to him. They were still catching their breath after the passionate activities, both happy and sated, comfortable.

San closed his eyes, concentrating on the light touch of Wooyoung’s fingers caressing his skin while turning lighter with every sweep and the characteristic yet volatile scent of his body. 

“Why do I miss you so much?” he asked with a sigh.

The answer got lost in the void, never reaching San’s ears. He squeezed his eyes tighter as if wanting to will this moment with his lover never to be over.

“I wish I could see you again,” he said, his voice laced with deep sadness. “What happened to you that night when you didn’t come back to us?”

The silence continued and when San opened his eyes again, he was alone.


	3. The Beginning of a Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> San's happiness turns into a nightmare.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Wooyoung entered the room San shared with Yunho and stood beside the bunk bed.

San looked at him from the upper bunk. “Studying,” he said, showing his boyfriend the cover of the Japanese textbook that he held in his hands.

“Okay. I’m probably disturbing you, but…” Wooyoung started, resting his arms against the edge of San’s bunk. “Do you have a lot to study? I wanted to go out with the guys outside of our team and I wondered if you wanted to join me.”

“Oh.” San put the book down and made a thoughtful face. “There’s not that much. I only wanted to finish an exercise. But I promised Yunho to play League of Legends with him after that.”

“Can’t you play tomorrow? I’ll join you,” Wooyoung suggested.

“I’m not sure what Yunho’s schedule for tomorrow is,” San said and shifted closer to the edge of his bed. “But what if I play with him today and we’ll play our own games tomorrow, hm? Sounds good?” He gave Wooyoung a sweet smile.

“You really don’t want to come, do you?” Wooyoung asked.

San gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I really don’t feel like going anywhere tonight. We went together last time and I think that you need to spend time with your friends without me around as well.”

“They’re your friends, too,” Wooyoung pointed out.

San smiled again. “Not as much as yours. I think you should go alone and have as much fun as you can, because you’re not going to get rid of me tomorrow.”

“You promise?” Wooyoung asked with a grin.

“What a stupid question,” San said, pulling a little closer to his boyfriend.

“Okay then. I’ll see you later. Have fun with Yunho.” Wooyoung stepped away from the bed, ready to leave, but before he could do that, San’s voice stopped him.

“Wooyoung, didn’t you forget something?”

Wooyoung looked at him with confusion. “Hm? What exactly?” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans. “My phone’s here…”

San rolled his eyes. “Why do you always think of your phone first?”

Wooyoung snorted. “My phone is my second life.”

“I thought I was your second life,” San said in a teasing tone, grinning at his sexy boyfriend. Hm, maybe he could drop the game with Yunho and try to convince Wooyoung to stay home with him and have their own fun together.

Wooyoung came up to the bed again, smiling at San, their faces close to each other’s. “You are my first life,” he said, sounding extremely cheesy, but San loved those little love confessions.

“Sweet talker,” he said, but it was hard to hide how happy he was. “I was talking about a kiss by the way.”

“Ah! A kiss. How could I forget?” Wooyoung said theatrically, and his face neared San’s even more. Their noses touched.

“Because you care about your ‘second life’ a little too much,” San teased. “Ow!” he cried in the next second as Wooyoung bit his lip. It didn’t hurt really, it just surprised him.

“You’re talking nonsense,” Wooyoung said, amused.

“Am I?”

When Wooyoung’s lips touched San’s again, they were soft and gentle. The tongue that slipped into San’s mouth became the promise of much sweeter things when the two of them met again.

“You sure you don’t want to go with me?” Wooyoung asked when their mouths parted.

“You sure you don’t want to stay here?” San answered with his own question.

Wooyoung laughed. “Nice try.” He gave San’s lips one more gentle kiss. “I’m going now,” he said after that. “Don’t wait up for me. I may be late.”

San chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t. We’re not married after all.”

Wooyoung sniggered, stepping away from the bed. “All right, I’ll see you later,” he said, waving his hand.

“Have fun,” San called after him before he returned to his textbook.

***

San did wait, hoping that his boyfriend would come back at a decent hour, but Wooyoung was obviously having fun and wasn’t thinking of an early return. They only shared a few texts with a lot of hearts and emojis and an ‘I love you’ in each text. They were so much in love. San couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone else.

Their path to each other had been hard and rocky. Filled with doubts and fears what would have happened if anyone had found out about them, they had held back. But one could hardly order their heart what to feel, and they both had wanted to be with each other. There had already been too much touching and smiling too brightly when they had looked at one another. Their teammates had known what had been going on before the two had even decided to take that step and change their relationship. And things were great now.

It was half past midnight and San was tired. He sent Wooyoung the message:

_I’m going to sleep now. Come say hi when you get back home. Love you._

He put his phone away and huddled under the covers. As tired as he was after the dance practice, he fell asleep soon.

He slept without any disturbance until the morning. It was Sunday, a free day for the team, so they didn’t need to get up so early, and San didn’t even mean to sleep in when he suddenly realized that Wooyoung hadn’t come to tell him he was back home. San reached for his phone to check the messages, but there were no new texts. He didn’t think much about it; Wooyoung hadn’t probably read the text or had just decided not to wake his boyfriend up. 

San climbed down from the upper bed and met Yunho’s sleepy eyes. His friend seemed to not be ready to get up just yet. San grinned at him and headed out of the room for the bathroom.

Ten minutes later he entered the kitchen meeting Hongjoong there fiddling with the coffee machine.

“Morning,” San greeted him as he went to look for something to eat.

“Good morning. Do you want coffee?”

“No, thanks. But I’m sure Jongho will when he gets up.”

“When doesn’t Jongho want coffee?” Hongjoong asked with an amused smile, waiting for the machine to brew the bitter beverage.

San just sat down at the table, ready to eat his breakfast, when a half-asleep Yeosang stumbled into the kitchen. “Coffee, please,” he mumbled.

“Why did you get up when you’re still tired?” San asked him.

“I want to go out and do some shopping before lunch,” Yeosang explained.

“Speaking of going out,” San started, “is Wooyoung still asleep?”

Yeosang gave him a strange look. “Didn’t he sleep with you? Because he didn’t make it to his own bed last night.”

San frowned. “That’s weird.”

“Maybe he was late and stayed with his friends overnight,” Hongjoong offered, handing a mug of coffee to Yeosang.

“He would’ve let me know,” San objected and stood up from the table. “I’ll call him.”

“Okay. Tell us when you know more,” Hongjoong had said before San left the kitchen.

“You think it’s weird too, don’t you?” Yeosang asked when he and the band leader remained alone.

“Yeah. It doesn’t sound like Wooyoung, not letting San know, but we don’t know what happened. Maybe just the battery in his phone died.”

Meanwhile San stormed into his and Yunho’s room. His roommate gave him a puzzled look.

“What’s the rush?” Yunho asked and yawned.

San didn’t answer. He grabbed his phone, dialing Wooyoung’s number. He needed to hear his voice right away.

The call didn’t go through and a voice in the phone notified San that the caller wasn’t reachable at the moment.

“Damn,” he cursed quietly.

“What’s up?” Yunho asked, now more awake than a minute ago.

“Wooyoung didn’t come home last night and he didn’t let me know that he was going to stay with his friends. I just want to know that he’s all right, but his phone is turned off,” San told his friend what bothered him.

“I wouldn’t worry that much,” Yunho said, rubbing his eyes. “Maybe his battery just died and he’ll call when he can.”

“You may be right,” San said and gave Yunho a small smile. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was seriously off. 

***

San tried to call Wooyoung a few more times during the day, but with the same result – his calls were directed to voicemail. He was already pretty nervous, even though Yunho told him that Wooyoung probably didn’t remember their phone numbers, therefore he didn’t call from a friend’s phone and surely would come home soon. If only the “soon” Yunho talked about didn’t take hours.

“Anything new?” Hongjoong asked when San came to the kitchen for the fifth time in the last half-hour, his phone in his hand.

“No. His phone is still off and the few of his friends whose numbers I have couldn’t tell me anything. Or they didn’t pick up at all,” San said, worry apparent in his voice. He noticed that Hongjoong had his phone with him as well. “Did you try to call him, too?”

“Yes, but…” Hongjoong shrugged and glanced at the window.

“It’s not him not letting us know, even if it’s a free day,” San said, dialing Wooyoung’s number once more.

“I know,” Hongjoong said with a sigh when suddenly his phone rang.

San gave him a questioning look and disconnected his own call when it was directed to the voicemail again.

“It’s the manager,” Hongjoong said, picking up. “Yes?”

San waited while the leader listened to the man on the other side of the line.

“Yes, we’ll wait for you. Did something happen?” There was a short pause before Hongjoong spoke again. “All right, I understand. Wooyoung’s not here, though. Is that a problem?” Another short pause. “Okay, we’ll see you soon.” After saying that, Hongjoong hung up.

“What’s up?” San asked.

“I don’t know,” the leader said. “He said he needed to tell us something and he sounded pretty serious.”

“Didn’t he give a hint what it could be?”

“No, but…” Hongjoong hesitated, his smooth forehead furrowing. “When I metioned Wooyoung was not here, he said he knew. Isn’t that strange?”

San gave the band leader a hopeful look. “Maybe Wooyoung is with him,” he said.

“It’s possible,” Hongjoong admitted, and yet he didn’t stop frowning.

“But?” San urged him.

Hongjoong glanced out of the window. “Why didn’t he borrow the manager’s phone and let us know?”

The same question was nagging San, but he didn’t want to ask it. Something in his guts was telling him he wouldn’t like the answer, but on the other hand, he _wanted_ to know the answer. He wondered if Wooyoung got into some kind of trouble with the company, although it didn’t sound like him. Wooyoung was usually careful about his behavior in public, even when he was having fun. But what if his friends had gotten in trouble and dragged Wooyoung into it, too? San hoped that he would find out soon and that things weren’t as black as he made them in his head. There surely was a reasonable explanation to Wooyoung’s not working phone and their manager knowing about him. San still wished he hadn’t been so lazy the previous night and had joined Wooyoung. He would have known now what was up with him. 

The manager arrived sooner than they expected, looking deathly serious. He didn’t bring Wooyoung with him, but two other men who presented themselves as police officers, which unsettled not only San, but every member of the band.

“Take your seats, please,” the manager said when they gathered in the living room. Five of the boys occupied the couch while Hongjoong and Yeosang shared one of the two armchairs with the younger member seated on an armrest. The manager sat down in the second armchair while one of the officers stood just a little behind him and the other went to look around the place.

The atmosphere was tense. The manager looked anywhere but at them, and his unwillingness to voice what was on his mind was more than apparent. What on earth could have happened? Whatever it was, they already knew that it was going to be bad news.

“This is very hard to say,” the manager finally started, which made them even more agitated. They exchanged nervous glances, each of them having multiple scenarios playing in their heads.

“If it’s so serious, shouldn’t we wait for Wooyoung to hear it, too?” San asked sheepishly, glancing at the police officer standing a little further from the manager’s armchair.

“This is about Wooyoung, San,” the manager said, and his voice trembled a little.

San straightened up. He didn’t doubt the man knew where Wooyoung was and what was up with him. But what could it be if even police were involved?

“He’s not coming back,” the manager said, his voice grave.

San blinked in confusion and his narrow eyes widened. He couldn’t imagine any other reason for Wooyoung not coming back than sitting in jail. But for what reason? He was a clever young man, careful and polite. San glanced at the other members, who looked as perplexed as he felt.

“What happened?” Hongjoong asked, demanding the explanation everyone wanted to hear, because everything that had been said so far didn’t make any sense.

The second officer joined them, standing next to his colleague.

The manager took another deep breath, looking at the hands in his lap. A strange, cold light glistened in his eyes.

“Someone beat him last night and dumped him in a park. He was in very bad condition. A morning runner found him and called an ambulance,” the manager said.

It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. San’s lungs stopped working and he thought he was going to suffocate. _Wooyoung…_

“What?!?” he heard Mingi by his side while San’s mind was still processing the information.

“Where is he now? What hospital?” Hongjoong demanded, his voice firm. “We’re going to see him.”

“That’s not all,” the manager said, and the atmosphere got even heavier. “Wooyoung… didn’t make it. He died during transport.”

A deafening silence followed. The boys stared at the manager, their eyes wide and mouths open. Everyone was afraid even to breathe, because if they did, time would start flowing again.

“I’m so sorry,” the manager said, a tear rolling down his cheek, which he wiped away quickly with his hand.

San felt a nervous tremble spreading through his body. He looked away, an expression of total denial settling on his face. That horrible thing couldn’t be true. Something like that couldn’t happen to Wooyoung. Not Wooyoung of all people. Wooyoung was somewhere, alive and healthy, just waiting for his phone to charge, and he would call San the moment he could…

“That’s… That’s a joke, right?” Mingi asked, voicing what San thought himself. “What you just said… That’s just a cruel joke.”

“I’m afraid it is not,” one of the police officers said. “He had his ID with him and his identity was already confirmed by his family.”

San couldn’t listen to that cold, impersonal voice. “No!” he cried. “No! That’s not true. He texted me last night. He was _okay_ ,” he said with emphasis on the last word.

“It is true,” the officer said. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“NO!” San yelled and stood up. Seonghwa, who sat next to him from the other side, tried to pull him back on the couch, but San shook his hands off of himself. “Wooyoung is not the type that would go out and just… _die._ ” He almost choked on the last word. He spat it out with anger and disbelief. Wooyoung couldn’t be gone. He was so full of life. He had his plans, he had dreams, there was so much he wanted to do. The future was waiting for him. And San was supposed to walk into that bright, beautiful future with him.

“San,” the manager addressed him in a patient but firm tone, “sit down, please.”

“No! They’re lying! Wooyoung would never… He wouldn’t… He…” He felt his lungs use the last bits of oxygen. His gut told him that what these people were saying was true, but he wasn’t ready to accept it. He didn’t _want_ to accept it. 

“San. San.” He heard Seonghwa by his side. The older member’s arms wrapped around him, pulling San back on the couch. He suddenly felt so helpless, so small. He was breaking into millions of little pieces, holding together only thanks to Seonghwa’s tight embrace. He felt the older boy’s chest rising and falling in a ragged rhythm of his quiet sobs, his hot tears rolling down San’s neck as Seonghwa hid his face in the embrace. Mingi’s big hands were rubbing soothing circles on San’s back, but the rapper couldn’t control his own crying. Yunho was sobbing just a little further from them. San had no idea how the rest were processing the bad news, but he had enough problems with himself. His heart hurt. It hurt so much that San thought it would burst like a soap bubble.

“C-can you tell us any m-more?” Yeosang asked, choking on the words.

San raised his head just a little, looking at the asking member over Seonghwa’s shoulder. The older member’s face was just as wet as everyone’s and he was wiping the tears away from his cheeks, but they kept rolling down his face. Hongjoong was curled up next to Yeosang in the armchair, dark eyes fixed on the police officers in expectation and also fear. San shared that feeling. He wanted to know everything and nothing at the same time. He was terrified of the answer, but he was also curious. Who did it? For what reason? Why Wooyoung? Why on earth the friendly, good-natured, lovable Wooyoung, who never wished anything ill on anyone?

San hid his face again on Seonghwa’s shoulder. The eldest member tightened his embrace, sniffling close to San’s ear.

“Unfortunately, we can’t tell you more,” one of the officers said, and San really didn’t know if he felt relieved or disappointed. “The investigation has just started. But we hoped you could tell us things like why he was out so late, who he was supposed to meet, when he contacted you last…”

San raised his head again, his eyes meeting the officer’s. He could feel the stares of the other members. He was the last one who had talked to Wooyoung before he had left, after all.

He wanted to take a deep breath, but his lungs didn’t cooperate properly.

“H-he,” he stuttered, “was s-supposed to meet s-some f-friends. I-I don’t k-know where exactly t-they went. M-maybe to s-some of our f-favorite spots.” It was hard to talk when his voice was breaking.

“Can you name them?” the officer asked.

San tried, but he barely mentioned two places when he burst into a new torrent of tears. Seonghwa grabbed him and held him in a suffocating embrace while San’s world was crashing down. He heard Mingi continuing in naming the spots, his voice sounding as if from a distance. Yeosang said something, too, but he was so quiet that the officer needed to ask him twice to repeat what he had said. The good thing was that the guys knew those places, because they used to go there together, too.

Mingi’s hand was on San’s back again, but San had a feeling that Mingi was looking for comfort more than trying to soothe San’s grief.

“Can any of you tell us the names of the people Wooyoung was supposed to meet?” asked the police officer again.

“H-he had m-many friends,” Jongho answered this time, and his voice shook so heavily with suppressed cry.

San sniffed and raised his head one more time, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “I c-can,” he said, trying so hard to be strong and brave for this moment. Wooyoung gone still felt so surreal and the tiny bit of doubt he held in his heart helped him to hold on just a little bit longer. He glanced at the door as if expecting Wooyoung to appear there and tell them it was just a mistake, that he was alive and healthy and that he was sorry for being so late. San would have forgiven him. He would have forgiven him anything if only he could hold Wooyoung in his arms one more time.

He took a deep breath and looked at the officers, offering the names of three people he was sure Wooyoung had been going to meet and then adding a few more just in case.

“Thank you. We’ll check with them. Now… You mentioned he had texted you last night. When was it?” the police continued in their questioning.

“W-we shared m-more texts,” San said between sobs. Seonghwa and Mingi were there, holding him, and he gained the little courage he needed to talk from their hugs. “It was h-half past t-twelve when I s-sent the last t-text that I was g-going to s-sleep. H-he n-never texted b-back. H-he sent the last one m-maybe an hour b-before m-mine,” San’s voice started shaking uncontrollably before a new torrent of tears overcame him. Seonghwa and Mingi held him tighter as if wanting to protect him from the cruel reality.

One of the officers wrote down something in his notepad while the other asked more questions.

“Do you know if he had any enemies?”

San shook his head vehemently and hid his face in Seonghwa’s shoulder again.

“Everyone loved Wooyoung,” Hongjoong said, his voice low and soft, and yet everyone could hear the strong emotion in it.

“H-he was f-friendly with everyone. H-he loved m-making f-friends.” Yunho was choking with sobs as he said that. San looked at him over Seonghwa’s shoulder. Yunho’s face was red and puffy with crying and even the vigorous wiping with his hands didn’t help him to keep his face dry.

Jongho sat next to Yunho. His eyes were fixed on a spot on the carpet, his face as wet as everyone’s, but he didn’t even attempt to get rid of the wetness from his cheeks.

“He was polite,” the youngest member added his own statement about Wooyoung.

“And he k-kept his promises,” Yeosang continued in his shaky voice.

“He was a real friend,” Mingi’s voice sounded in San’s ear. “He was c-caring and h-helpful.”

“He knew how to encourage people,” Seonghwa said, and San heard the loud cracking of his breaking heart.

“Wooyoung w-was…” he tried to say, holding his breath as he fully realized the devastating truth. _Wooyoung was, was, was…_ Not _is_. Wooyoung belonged to the past.

“WOOYOUUUUUNG!!!!!!!!!” his soul cried to the deaf universe, his sorrow taking his pain up to the sky where nothing mattered anymore. San froze in the moment, died with his love, stopped existing with the one who meant so, so much to him. He broke, fell to the bottom of a deep, dark abyss. Terrified to his very core, he curled up in the nothingness that enveloped him. He was stripped of everything he was, his joy, his energy, and was left only with pain. A hurting shell with no reason to live anymore.

“WHY???” he yelled to the heavens that ignored him. He was unable to hold his grief. He wanted to yell, to hit something, to hurt someone, but his ability to move was restricted by many arms and bodies around him, hiding him from the world. He barely realized that he was being hugged by the other members. They cried with him, grieved with him, they held him tightly, holding the shards of his breaking being together.

He heard his own loud cries, he heard his own sobs and heard himself asking over and over again why? Why Wooyoung? Why had the universe taken him away from them so suddenly, so painfully, so cruelly?

He didn’t remember anything from that moment. His mind shut down and he knew that things happened, but he had no recollection of them. When he started being aware of the world around him again, he was lying in Yunho’s bed, staring at the bottom of the upper bunk.

He felt a hand being laid on his shoulder and registered his roommate in his peripheral vision. San didn’t look at him, though. He didn’t want to see anyone. He didn’t want to know anything. He didn’t want to feel, to breathe, he didn’t want to exist. He just wanted to disappear like ash in the wind.

“How do you feel?” Yunho asked softly, and yet his voice was heavy with the emotions he was trying so hard to hold at bay.

“What happened?” San asked and wondered how empty his tone sounded.

“You had a breakdown, Sannie,” Yunho said, his hand rubbing San’s shoulder. “And then you passed out. We were worried.”

San breathed in. Still unable to look at his friend, he covered his eyes with his forearm. Memories started attacking him and he tried hard to keep them out. Unsuccessfully.

“The police?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“They’re gone. They asked if we knew about a crazy fan that could have attacked…” Yunho swallowed the name he wanted to say and part of San was thankful for that, because hearing Wooyoung’s name was painful at the moment, but another part got angry. Wooyoung wasn’t Voldemort for fuck’s sake! They shouldn’t be afraid to use his name.

“What did you say?” he asked, trying not to think about the hole the size of Jupiter in his heart.

“That we didn’t know about anyone like that, but that you might know more.” San’s free hand was captured by Yunho’s, their fingers tangling. If Yunho didn’t hold him tightly, San’s hand would have slipped from his grip. 

“I don’t. Woo…” San swallowed hard. It hurt so much. “He didn’t mention anything like that and I doubt anyone stalked him. Atiny wouldn’t…” he started, but he knew he was just making excuses. How many times had he heard that a crazy fan attacked an artist? It wasn’t as rare as anyone would have wished.

“Okay, San. I understand,” Yunho said, not pushing him into saying more. “Do you need anything?”

“Wooyoung,” San said. The corners of his mouth fell and a loud sob escaped him.

He felt Yunho’s arms around him. San cuddled closer, crying loudly, giving in to his grief completely.


	4. Hearts Ripped Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first days after the tragedy, a few explanations and a little bit of SeongJoong.

Seven months. That was the time everyone said had passed since the tragedy that had affected their lives. Seven months and San felt as if not a single day had gone by. His grief hadn’t diminished a bit and the hole in his heart was still far from healing. He missed Wooyoung so damn much.

Sometimes, San dreamed about Wooyoung’s hugs and kisses, about the mischief shining in his eyes and his high-pitched laughter. Sometimes, they argued in his dreams only to make up in a passionate way. Sometimes, they just enjoyed the life they had been robbed of so violently.

San opened his eyes and gave a long sigh. Another day, another struggle. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to meet his psychologist today or not, but he knew that someone would surely tell him.

He heard a rustle of sheets from the upper bed. Someone was in the room with him.

“Jongho?” he asked. Jongho usually didn’t sleep that long. Or was it still too early?

“Try again,” he heard Mingi’s raspy voice.

“Oh…” He remembered that Jongho moved out of the room last night, exchanged for Mingi, who was San’s roommate now. San knew there was some kind of an agreement among the six remaining members that they wouldn’t leave San alone in his emptiness and would take turns in his room for a certain time. He was aware that living with him was exhausting. He didn’t interact much and he had nightmares. Many times, he had been woken up from a bad dream to someone shaking with him. He remembered that there had always been someone else in his room at the beginning. Now, the faces changed slower, but he could never say how long they would stay with him until they changed again.

_Faces…_ He hated thinking about the band members, his friends, his unofficial family like this, but there were moments when he had been so lost in his darkness that they were just that. Faces.

Mingi jumped down off the upper bunk and turned to face San, who showed no interest in getting up whatsoever. 

“’Oh’? I expected more joy,” the rapper said reproachfully. “Do you have any idea how much I looked forward to sharing the room with you?”

San really couldn’t tell if Mingi was kidding or was serious. “I don’t,” he said honestly.

Mingi didn’t seem taken aback by that answer. “Very much!” he cried and bent to San. “You’re not planning to stay in bed the whole day, are you?”

San didn’t answer, which Mingi obviously interpreted as a ‘yes’.

“That’s too bad, because I won’t allow you,” the rapper announced, grabbing both San’s hands and started pulling him into a sitting position.

San didn’t fight back, but he didn’t make it easy for Mingi, either. He was like a rag doll and if Mingi had decided to simply hang San over his shoulder and carry him like that, San would have done nothing about it. However, Mingi didn’t give him that benefit. When San finally sat up, but didn’t even try to get out from under the covers; Mingi simply hooked his long arms under San’s armpits and pulled him out of the bed uncompromisingly. San would have fallen on the floor if Mingi hadn’t held him. He didn’t even try to stand on his own feet, so the rapper pulled him further to the door and dumped him in the hall unceremoniously.

“Mingi! What the hell are you doing?” Seonghwa’s outraged voice echoed, and San heard a door open. Someone must have come to see what was going on.

“Bathroom first, then breakfast. I’ll wait for you,” Mingi said, ignoring the eldest member’s protests and the audience.

San ignored them, too. The only thing that mattered right now was the firmness of the rapper’s voice. Mingi was determined enough for both of them and San could attune to it. Listening to simple orders was easier than trying to defy them stubbornly. Being stubborn required more energy than doing what was expected from him. So he stood up and went to the bathroom.

“What was that?” he heard Yeosang’s voice as he was closing the bathroom door after himself.   
  
“A failed experiment,” Mingi said with a sigh.   
  
San closed the door and came up to the washbasin. He looked into the mirror hanging above it, watching his face. He knew what Mingi had meant with his words. He knew that the failure he had mentioned was San’s lack of reaction. San was just a thing without his own will. He didn’t care what was going on with him. A psychopath could kidnap him and cut him open and San wouldn’t even mind.

Mingi waited for him just like he had promised.

“Go downstairs and start making breakfast. I’ll have eggs,” Mingi said, laying his hand on San’s shoulder. “It’s my turn to use the bathroom, so I’ll come later. Will you do that for me?”

San shrugged. He had no problem fixing some breakfast for Mingi. It was an easy activity that busied his hands and put his mind at peace. Yeah, making breakfast was fine.

“Fine, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” Mingi gave San a smile before he turned around and walked into the bathroom.

San watched him until Mingi disappeared behind the door. He felt like he should say something, show more interest, but… It was hard. It was hard waking up from this nothingness into the real world without Wooyoung in it. How did the others manage that? San didn’t feel like they betrayed Wooyoung in any way. He wanted them to be happy again, to smile and laugh and go on with their lives. San knew that they wanted the same for him, but… Whenever San took a deep breath and wanted to take that step, something within him pushed him back.

He turned around and walked towards the kitchen. He heard the low sound of the TV and he hesitated for a moment, but it sounded like commercials, and commercials were okay. He was barely half-way into the kitchen, thinking about breakfast, when the familiar sound of a news block reached his ears. San stopped.

_“… the government program to support small businesses…”_ a woman’s voice on the TV said, and San breathed a sigh of relief. Such news didn’t do anything to him and it had been rather safe to listen to the news lately. The circumstances of Wooyoung’s death stopped making the headlines in newspapers long ago and the bits of new information were never as interesting as to make it into the main news that the team usually watched. San still avoided being near the TV when the news was on, but he had a mission this morning and maybe this was a good start in coping with the reality.

He continued on his way; the sound from the TV carried through the open space of the apartment.

_“Last night, the police arrested a new suspect in the case of drug business and prostitution. The sources say…”_

“Yunho, mute it, please,” Hongjoong’s voice carried through the apartment, but San already heard enough. His heart started beating fast as he listened to those words and he felt the familiar dread trying to take over his mind. Memories started attacking him and he fought hard to keep them at bay. 

“Yeah, sorry…” Yunho said, but the TV didn’t fall silent right away.

_“… there are assumptions that the suspect could be also the drug dealer of Jung Wooyoung…”_

“Yunho!”

“Dammit!”

San’s breath hitched in his lungs. He stood in the hall, listening, but the TV was finally silent.

“Those fuckers,” he heard Yunho spit angrily. “Why the hell don’t they let him rest in peace?”

“Yunho…”

San shivered, unable to continue on his track.

“How _dare_ they?” Yunho continued. “It’s been seven damn months, and they still drag his name into this shit!”

“Control your mouth,” Hongjoong said strictly, but his tone turned gentle when he spoke again. “Such news doesn’t do any of us any good. That’s why I wanted you to mute it.”

“I know,” Yunho said brokenly. “The remote… was too far and I… didn’t grab it in time. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. San is not here, so…”

Silence fell, but San’s world was suddenly too loud. Blood murmured in his ears, and the yells and cries from his memories tormented his mind. How about Wooyoung? Had he cried this much, too, when he had been beaten?

San covered his ears and sank on the floor. That was how Mingi found him.

“Hey, Sannie, you okay?” the rapper asked as he sat down next to him.

San shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“What happened?”

“News,” San said, choking on the word.

“Dammit…” Mingi breathed out, wrapping his arm around San’s shoulder’s and pulling him closer. “Do you need a moment?”

“I…”

“That’s okay. We can sit here, or we can go back to the room until you feel better, or we can try to finish our breakfast mission,” Mingi said gently, hugging San.

“What’s up?” Seonghwa’s concerned voice came from behind their backs and the eldest member joined them soon. “San?”

“He heard the news,” Mingi said when San didn’t answer.

Seonghwa moved in front of San, taking his hands gently and pulling them away from San’s ears.

“San, listen to me,” he said, his voice low and peaceful. “It doesn’t matter what people out there say. What matters is us. Only us. Okay?”

San opened his eyes, locking them with Seonghwa’s. The older hyung talked to him with patience characteristic for him. San remembered all the times Wooyoung had teased him, often together with San, and Seonghwa had never gotten annoyed, never had snapped at them to cut it out. Because Seonghwa had known that it was their way of showing affection. San missed those times very much.

“Hyung,” he sniffed and reached out for the older boy, hugging him with his whole hurting heart, hugging him, because he felt the connection between them, because Seonghwa carried that cheerful part of Wooyoung with him and San needed to feel it right now.

Seonghwa’s arms wrapped around him and for a moment San felt safe and protected from the cruel reality. He cuddled up to Seonghwa’s chest, hiding his face in the hug and giving a long sigh.

“What’s going on here?” Hongjoong’s voice interrupted the peaceful moment, concern lacing his tone.

San tightened the hug, but it didn’t seem like Seonghwa wanted to let him go.

“Do you even need to ask?” Mingi snapped at the leader, which made San raise his head.

“Mingi,” Seonghwa tried to pacify the rapper with his characteristic calmness.

San’s eyes met Yunho’s. The tallest member stood by their leader’s side, looking miserable. “I’m so sorry, San. If only I…”

“No,” San said quickly. He didn’t want Yunho to blame himself for something he couldn’t anticipate. He didn’t want anyone to blame themselves for his own inability to cope with things in the right way. He needed to be brave – if not for himself, then for them. They deserved to be liberated from the shit he went through.

He pulled away from Seonghwa and stood up.

“San, are you okay?” Mingi asked, sounding worried.

“No,” San said truthfully. He felt awful. He was disgusted with himself and the world that betrayed him so mercilessly. He wanted to puke, but what what good would that do? He was angry. He was so damn angry every time he heard Wooyoung’s name mentioned on TV. And he knew he could do nothing about it, because no one out there cared about the truth. San felt so helpless.

“You wanted breakfast,” he said. Getting up and doing such a simple thing was his only way to connect with the reality. Not too painful, not too hard, just a small step that helped him no to think much about what just happened.

“Are you sure?” Mingi asked.

“Yeah.”

“Do you need help?” Hongjoong asked.

“Maybe someone who wouldn’t burn the kitchen down,” San said, and despite the lack of emotion in his tone, he could see how his remark made the others snigger. It warmed his heart, even though he wasn’t able to show that. Not yet. But one day, hopefully, he would.

“I’ll join you if it’s okay,” Yunho said.

“No problem. Come on,” San said, heading into the kitchen. He heard two pairs of feet follow him and realized the eldest members weren’t with them. They probably had their own schedule and were getting ready for it, which San totally understood. He worked with Mingi and Yunho, who joked now and then gently. It was nice watching them like this. It was nice seeing that the others fought hard to move on and get back to their lives. It was nice and yet it hurt.

San needed a moment from time to time to just breathe and tell himself that it would be okay. When he suddenly stopped working, Yunho came up to him and hugged him and San knew that Yunho was angry, too. They both were angry about the news bringing up Wooyoung’s name in such a nasty context even after such a long time. They knew Wooyoung better than anyone. Just like they had said to the police:

_Wooyoung had nothing to do with drugs and prostitution._

***

The first days after the tragedy were living hell. San’s world totally collapsed and he was buried under the ruins of every dream he had ever had. A bit of his soul died every day and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t want to. He missed Wooyoung so much that he wondered that his heart hadn’t burst with all that pain yet.

He wasn’t the only one who took it hard. The whole group mourned the loss of their member and good friend, they all dealt with the soul-consuming grief. The company arranged meetings with therapists for all of them, which helped a lot. The boys started getting up on their feet again one by one – except San, who felt like he was falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of despair.

He felt guilty for not having gone out with Wooyoung that night. If he had, things may have been different.

“Stop saying that!” Yeosang exploded one day, a week after the tragedy. “If you had, we could be mourning both of you right now! _It_ _wasn’t your fault_ _!_ ”

Even though the rational part of San’s mind had told him Yeosang was right, the emotional part of him prevailed, screaming at him that he shouldn’t have left Wooyoung alone. If anything had happened to both of them, they would have been together at least. How scared must Wooyoung have been in those last moments of his life? Totally alone in the hands of people who had hurt him, even more alone when they had dumped him in that park with no access to help. If San had been there, they would have been dying together at least…

He dreaded the day of Wooyoung’s funeral. He was scared of the finality of that act. After that, Wooyoung would be gone forever.

But the thing San was terrified of the most was meeting Wooyoung’s family. He was unable to look them in the eyes and say the words of condolence. And he felt sick with himself for pretending that he couldn’t have done anything that night. He could have tried to persuade Wooyoung to stay with him. He could have done so many things differently… When Wooyoung’s mom came to him, he was unable to say anything, because he was choking from his tears.

The day after the funeral, Wooyoung’s family came for their son’s belongings. San avoided meeting them, even though he knew they were hurting as much as he did. He was unable to see them packing everything that was Wooyoung once – not only his things, but also memories of him. He was glad that he hadn’t shared the room with Wooyoung and felt even guiltier for thinking like that. He cried a lot that day again, wondering where all the tears came from. He cried and couldn’t stop. He cried rivers for Wooyoung, whom he had lost so suddenly and unpredictably in such a cruel way.

He thought that the worst things in dealing with Wooyoung’s death were behind him, but then a new blow came.

“What is that?” San asked after Hongjoong had come to his room with an official looking envelope. Yunho and Mingi were there, too, both standing in the doorway and watching the scene in front of them.

San lay in his bed, unwilling to get up and start the day. He could see no reason for that. Nothing was waiting for him out there, only grieving faces, painful memories and the world moving on. He had no strength to deal with it just yet and the guys probably noticed that, because they left him alone most of the time. Not always, though. 

Sometimes, they thought he needed company. Sometimes, they tried to get him to do something simple like eating a meal with them in the kitchen, tidying up the living room or watching a movie. But everything, even the slightest activity, was too tiring for him. He felt like a holey tank leaking fuel.

Hongjoong sat down on San’s bed, looking nervous as he handed the envelope to the younger member.

“We’ve been summoned for questioning. All of us. Only the dates and times are different,” he tried to explain.

“Questioning?” San looked at the envelope, but he didn’t take it. “Why?”

Hongjoong breathed out and glanced at Yunho and Mingi, who backed off a little, looking anywhere but at the leader and San.

Hongjoong returned his attention to San. “We don’t know,” he started and took a deep breath, “but we think it’s about Wooyoung,” he said, voicing Wooyoung’s name bravely. San felt sometimes as if his boyfriend’s name became a taboo among them and it hurt. But hearing the name hurt just as much.

San turned around, showing his back to everyone in the room. “I’m not going.”

“I’m sorry, but you have to,” the leader said gently, and his hand touched San’s arm.

San shook Hoongjoong’s hand off and curled up under the covers. “I don’t want to.”

“I know, Sannie. But it’s not up to us to decide. I’m very sorry.”

“If it needs to be done, it’s better this way than being summoned to the court,” Seonghwa’s voice sounded in the room.

San hadn’t even noticed the older hyung come in. He looked over his shoulder. “Court?”

Seonghwa came up to the bed. “Yes,” he said, looking serious. “They will catch the ones who did it one day and it won’t be nice. It’s better if we say everything we know now and, hopefully, our testimonies won’t be needed later.”

San’s eyes widened at the idea of the terrifying possibility. “I don’t want to go to court.”

“That’s what I thought,” Seonghwa said and motioned towards the letter that was still in Hongjoong’s hands. “May I see it?”

San nodded, watching the eldest member take the envelope and open it. Seonghwa took out the document on a snow-white piece of paper that looked scary in its formality. San shivered and tightened his grip on the covers, his eyes wide as he watched the older hyung study the summons.

It was silent in the room, even Yunho and Mingi, who had kept whispering in the doorway, didn’t dare to say a word.

“I’ll go with you,” Seonghwa said after a couple of minutes and folded the paper, handing it to Hongjoong. “We have the same date. Maybe they’ll question us together.”

Hongjoong’s face lit up for a moment. “That sounds like a good idea,” he said.

It didn’t make San feel any better, though. He looked at both eldest members unhappily. “I’d really prefer not going. I don’t want to talk about…” A big lump grew in his throat and made it impossible for him to finish the sentence. Tears gathered in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

“I know,” Hongjoong said quickly. “I understand.” He bent to San, hiding him in his embrace. His T-shirt got soaked with San’s tears and his breathing quickened.

San felt a warm hand being laid on his back and then strong arms wrapped around him and Hongjoong, capturing San between his two hyungs. The soft sniffs told him that both Hongjoong and Seonghwa were crying with him. San also caught the quiet sound of two pairs of feet shuffling towards the bed and the sandwich became a grieving burrito with San in the middle of it. He knew he wasn’t alone in his sorrow; everyone missed Wooyoung so damn much that it was scary to even think about it.

The company reacted quickly to the new situation. With understanding so rare in the music business, the management gave the group time to deal with the tragedy and the things that came after. They also paid for grief counseling. What happened was hard on all of them and making any decisions concerning their careers was out of question at the moment. They needed to get to terms with the fact there were only seven of them now.

San sobbed loudly in Hongjoong’s T-shirt, holding on him as if for dear life. As if Hongjoong could stop him from falling into the dark world of despair. The problem was that no matter what Hongjoong or any other member did for him, San was losing himself little by little, his heart breaking into smaller and smaller shards that he would never be able to piece together again, his soul dying slowly. He wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again.

***

San didn’t know how quickly the time had passed when Seonghwa came to his room suddenly, waking San up from his slumber.

“Get up, San, we need to go.”

“’m not goin’ anywhere,” San said sleepily, not even trying to remember where the eldest member wanted to go with him. He rolled on his other side, showing his back to Seonghwa.

“Come on, San. It’s the hearing.”

San stiffened, suddenly fully awake. “Not going,” he said firmly this time. He had stopped thinking about the summons the moment the letter was out of his sight. He had had enough to do with himself even without it. But he was scared. He was shit scared of what the police might ask, even more terrified of talking about Wooyoung in general. It hurt so much even to think about him and the tragedy was that he couldn’t get Wooyoung out of his mind. The hole that had been left after him in San’s heart was still bleeding.

Seonghwa sighed and sat down on the bed. “We talked about this. It’s not something you can say ‘no’ to. Sannie…” He bent forward and hugged San gently. “I’ll be there with you.”

“What’s going on?” San heard Yunho’s sleepy, slightly hoarse voice. He glanced over his shoulder at his friend, bending over the edge of the upper bunk. Yunho looked exhausted despite having woken up just a minute ago. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was pale.

Seonghwa let go of San and looked at Yunho. “The hearing is today,” he answered the younger member’s question.

“Oh…”

San turned away from them, so he didn’t see Yunho climb down off the upper bunk, but he could hear him. “Are you in a hurry? I can make you breakfast,” he offered.

“The manager is taking us there. He’s here in an hour,” Seonghwa said.

An hour seemed to be a lot of time, but everyone knew that getting San out of bed required an extreme amount of effort and patience these days. His bed was the only friendly place in this fucked- up reality in which Wooyoung didn’t exist anymore. Especially now, when the things waiting for him were so scary. San was terrified of the interrogation. Saying Wooyoung’s name had become really hard lately and hearing it wasn’t any easier. Whenever Wooyoung was mentioned, San couldn’t hold his tears and he felt ashamed for his weakness. He already knew that he wouldn’t be able to say anything during the questioning, so why bother going there?

“I’m going to fix you something you can take with you,” Yunho said, obviously expecting them to be late.

“Thank you,” Seonghwa said simply, his attention still on San.

“No problem,” Yunho said, laying his hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “Anything else you want? Sannie?”

San shook his head, facing away from his two friends. He heard soft sighs and then Yunho’s steps as he left the room.

Seonghwa bent over San, caressing his arm gently.

“Do you remember what we talked about when you got the letter?” he asked in a soft tone. “That the court would be much, much worse. If we do good today, hopefully we won’t be needed later.”

San sniffed quietly. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to say anything,” he voiced his greatest fear.

Seonghwa hugged him tightly. “The hearing scares me, too,” he admitted, “but I’ll do my best and I’ll help you to do your best as well, okay? We’re in this together.”

San curled up, although he didn’t try to pull away. “It hurts so much.”

“I know, San.” Seonghwa’s voice was low and calm, almost as if it belonged to a caring parent. San felt safe with his older hyung, he trusted him and knew that Seonghwa wouldn’t let him down. But he also knew how much Seonghwa had liked Wooyoung and that the loss must have been extremely hard for him as well.

“How do you do that? You are so strong,” San said, sobbing quietly.

Seonghwa just sighed and pressed a small kiss in San’s hair. Then he pulled away. “Get up and get dressed. We’ll meet in the kitchen, okay?”

Before San nodded, he noticed wet streaks on the elder member’s cheeks.

Seonghwa turned around and left the room without saying a word further.

*** 

The ride to the police station was silent; not even the radio was on. San and Seonghwa occupied the back seat of their manager’s car, their hands clasped together, although they didn’t look at each other. Seonghwa watched the world behind the windows and San hypnotized the seat in front of him, trying to calm down. He was shivering as if he was cold, dreading the hearing. Seonghwa must have felt it, because his grip was firm and he didn’t let go of San’s hand until they reached their destination.

San’s heart pounded against his ribcage painfully as he got out of the car. His legs felt like jelly and he was surprised that he didn’t topple over right where he stood.

“Come on,” the manager said. He didn’t ask them if they wanted him to go with them, he simply joined them.

Seonghwa hurried to San, hugging him from behind. “Just remember why we’re doing this,” he said when San leaned against him. “He deserves justice.”

San sighed. “I just want this to be over.”

“I know. We’ll do this and we’ll go home to rest.”

“You’ll be with me, right?”

“As long as I can, I won’t leave your side,” Seonghwa said, his embrace warm and protective.

San turned his head to the elder member. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Don’t mention it. Let’s go.” Seonghwa’s hand slipped into San’s once again. San held it firmly like a lifeline, following Seonghwa’s steps as they walked.

They were kept waiting for about half an hour during which San’s unease only increased. He clutched his hyung’s hand, crushing his fingers as he struggled with himself. He wanted to run away, he wanted to be alone, he wanted not to feel this small and scared and guilty.

He could have saved Wooyoung. He knew he could. If only he had gone out with him that night or persuaded him to stay home. It was his fault that Wooyoung…

His throat tightened and he thought he was going to suffocate. The police station was busy. People walked in and out, many worked hard on their computers and a few others discussed something. No one paid attention to the two boys and their manager since the moment they had been told to sit down and wait. San was too nervous to sit still, so he stood up after some time, and if Seonghwa hadn’t been holding his hand, he would have wandered away from that place, away from the fear that gnawed at his mind.

“Are you thirsty?” the manager asked, but it was obvious that he was nervous himself and was looking for something to do.

“I could actually drink something,” Seonghwa said, but the manager didn’t have time to bring him anything, because a police officer appeared next to them.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting. I needed to deal with a few urgent things. Shall we?” he asked as he motioned deeper into the building.

All three of them followed him until the officer stopped in front of a door. When he opened it, San could see an empty room with a simple table and chairs in it.

“Which one of you is Choi San?” the man asked.

Chills ran down San’s back and he stepped back, bumping into the manager, who stood behind him. Cold sweat covered his palms and Seonghwa’s hand started slipping from his grip. San felt panic rising within him. He looked at Seonghwa, who glanced at him.

“Would you mind if we testified together?” the older boy asked. 

The officer sized Seonghwa up.

“Please?” San asked, his voice weak and breaking.

The officer didn’t stop starring at the older boy. “Park Seonghwa?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Come inside,” the man said, and let the two enter. “Please, sir, wait here. We already have your testimony,” San heard from behind his back, and when he turned around, the police officer closed the door as he walked in, leaving their manager outside.

San glanced at Seonghwa, panic still trying to take over his heart.

“Please, sit down,” the officer said and motioned towards the chairs.

San moved to one of them and sank onto it slowly, watching the officer with distrust. Seonghwa’s hand holding his was the only thing that kept him in the room, encouraging him. They were doing this for Wooyoung and the justice he deserved.

Seonghwa pulled a chair closer to San and sat down as well, his shoulder touching San’s lightly.

The officer took a seat on the opposite side of the table, separating him from the boys, his expression grave as he looked at them.

San shivered. Seonghwa squeezed his hand under the table. San glanced at the mirror on the wall behind the officer’s back. All he could see were two scared boys, one of them already losing his shit, the other trying his best to stay calm.

“There are things I need to discuss with you,” the police officer started, his eyes fixed on San. “According to the testimonies of your manager and Mr. Jung Wooyoung’s family, you were closest to him and surely knew things that others didn’t.”

San looked at him uncomprehendingly. What did this man want from him?

“I don’t know. Woo… He had a close relationship with everyone,” he said, feeling the lump in his throat that prevented him from saying Wooyoung’s name out loud.

“But you were his best friend,” the officer continued.

“He said about many people they were his best friends,” San said quietly, unable to hold the gaze. He looked down on the table, remembering the times when Wooyoung had been bored and wanted San’s attention, when he had wanted to do more than friends used to do together, when he and San had decided to risk and shift their relationship far over the lines of friendship. Friends to lovers. The police officer was right, San had been the closest person to Wooyoung...

“I’ve heard he was very social,” the officer said, leaning back in his chair.

“Yes,” San said shortly, even though it wasn’t a question.

“And that you used to join him when he went to meet up with his friends.”

“Not always, but yes.” San’s voice was quieter.

“So you know them.”

San glanced up at the officer, who watched him like a bulldog ready to snatch after a bone. “Many of them, yes, but not everyone. Woo… He used to meet a lot of people.”

“Right,” the officer said as if he wasn’t entirely satisfied with San’s answers.

San clutched Seonghwa’s hand tightly again, his heart beating somewhere in his throat. He hadn’t answered many questions yet, but he already felt like throwing up.

“How was he with alcohol? Did he drink a lot?” the officer shot a new question.

“No, not at all,” San said immediately. Fine, Wooyoung surely had drunk some alcohol that night, but San doubted it had been more than one or two glasses.

“He didn’t drink more than any of us,” Seonghwa added.

The officer turned to him. “Explain, please.”

“We are not allowed to drink, not too much at least. When we go out, we can have a glass of something not too strong, but getting drunk in public is off limits,” Seonghwa said, and San nodded in agreement.

The police officer’s eyes narrowed as he watched them, but he said nothing.

“Wooyoung was very responsible and extremely careful,” Seonghwa continued. “He was aware that slipping like that could hurt his career. We all are careful.”

“All right,” the officer said, and he sounded quite tired. “How about drugs?”

Both San and Seonghwa looked at him, flabbergasted.

“E-excuse me?” San stuttered, his voice high and outraged.

“Is there a reason for this question?” Seonghwa asked, and it was obvious how much he didn’t like the question.

The officer never stopped watching them.

“There is a reason for every question,” he said, scolding them lightly. “And considering the places your friend visited that night and in what condition he was found, it is a legitimate one.”

“Wooyoung had nothing to do with drugs!” San exclaimed. What the hell was that question about? Wooyoung and drugs? Bullshit!

“Are you sure?” the officer asked with a poker face.

“One hundred percent sure,” San said resolutely, frowning at the man in front of him.

“He could have taken them without you knowing,” the officer said, the look of his eyes burning San from the inside.

“No,” San said, shaking his head violently. “No, no, no.”

“Did he have any unexpected mood swings?” the officer continued in his questioning.

San and Seonghwa exchanged confused looks and then looked at the man in front of them again.

“He had his moods,” Seonghwa admitted sheepishly. “But that was usual for him.”

“Meaning?”

“Wooyoung was a moody person in general.”

_Was…_ That word hurt so much. San looked away, readjusting his hand in Seonghwa’s. He’d had enough of these questions. He just wanted to go home and sleep.

“Was he tired often?”

“We all are tired often. We practice hard every day. It’s nothing unusual for any of us,” Seonghwa said firmly, squeezing San’s hand.

The officer let out a sigh. “Did he spend unnaturally high amounts of money or borrowed money from you?”

“No, never,” San said, frowning, struggling with his anger. How could someone even _suggest_ that Wooyoung had been a drug addict? San had never heard bigger bullshit. He had known his boyfriend. They had almost always been together. If Wooyoung had been taking anything, San would have known. But Wooyoung hadn’t been a stupid idiot, dammit! He had been a responsible guy.

“As a social type, I guess Mr. Jung Wooyoung liked meeting new people, didn’t he?”

“Yes, you can say that,” San admitted.

“Did he attend parties?”

“Sometimes. But our schedules are busy and he didn’t have much time for such things,” Seonghwa answered instead of San this time, his voice low and calm.

“Did he mention if anyone had ever offered him drugs there?”

“No,” San said again, anger seeping into his voice more and more. Seonghwa squeezed is hand again, but San ignored it this time.

The police officer gave him a piercing look. “How about party drugs? Did he ever mentioned he had wanted to try marijuana or ecstasy for example?”

“ _NO!_ ” San yelled, having enough of this bullshit. “We already told you that Wooyoung didn’t take drugs!” He was shaking with anger. How could anyone doubt Wooyoung? Wooyoung, who worked so hard to be better in every way possible. Better singer, better dancer, better friend, better lover, better man. “Wooyoung would NEVER, and I mean NEVER…”

“San, calm down,” Seonghwa said gently, letting go of San’s hand so that he could hug him around his shoulders. “They are just questions. The police officer is just doing his job, okay?”

San took a deep breath, but he didn’t feel any calmer. Those questions exasperated him. They were like a knife into his bleeding heart.

The officer didn’t say anything to San’s little explosion and waited patiently until the two were able to continue in the interrogation.

Seonghwa turned to the man. “We are sorry, sir. But, please, understand that this is hard for us,” the older member apologized for San’s inappropriate behavior.

San looked down, avoiding the officer’s intense gaze. He was still angry and didn’t feel sorry at all. He desperately wanted to go home, to his bed, and forget that this day had ever happened.

Seonghwa took his hand again. San let him, although he didn’t return the reassuring squeeze.

“As we said, Wooyoung didn’t take anything,” the older member continued. “He would have been stupid if he had ever tried such things or even thought about doing it. If any of us was caught taking drugs, we could just pack our things and leave the company for good. None of us would dare to risk it,” he explained. 

The police officer took a deep breath. “I understand. Is there anything you would like to add to your testimony?” he asked.

“Wooyoung… he was one of the most responsible people I’ve ever met,” San said, and his voice trembled again at the mention of Wooyoung’s name. “Anyone who says he did anything out of line is a liar.” Steel conviction laced his tone and he finally looked at the police officer. If the man wanted to fight him in this argument, then so be it.

But the police officer didn’t seem to want to take his conviction away. “Thank you for your sincere answers,” he said, looking at them with something resembling to pity.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Seonghwa addressed the officer suddenly, “but if you don’t mind me asking…”

“Go on,” the man said.

“What was the reason for the questions about drugs? Is that a normal police procedure or…?” Seonghwa fell silent, his expression reflecting curiosity but also fear.

The officer sighed. “Unfortunately, there is a serious reason,” he said, and San cringed at the gravity in his tone. “The autopsy revealed the presence of narcotics in Mr. Jung Wooyoung’s blood.”

San’s blood froze in his veins. He stared at the officer with his mouth open in shock, his brain unable to process the information.

“Are you sure?” he heard Seonghwa’s voice as if from distance.

“One hundred percent sure,” said the officer, quoting San’s testimony.

“There… There must be a mistake. That can’t be true,” San said desperately, cogwheels spinning in his head furiously.

“No mistake. Your friend was drugged when he died.”

“No! I don’t believe it!” San yelled again, standing up. This time Seonghwa didn’t try to calm him down.

“Is it possible that someone drugged him?” asked the older member, staring at the officer, his face reflecting the same disbelief as San’s.

At the question, San turned to his hyung abruptly, then to the police officer. Someone having drugged Wooyoung was the only answer he was ready to accept.

“I can’t tell you. That’s the subject of the investigation,” the officer said.

“There’s nothing to investigate!” San cried angrily. “Wooyoung didn’t take drugs! If he was drugged, someone must have done it to him or forced him to do it to himself! He would NEVER do it to himself willingly!”

“Will you please calm down?” the officer said, his tone warning.

San felt as if someone put his lungs into a vise and he could barely breathe now. “Are you even listening to me? He wouldn’t…!”

“I got it. Now calm down, please.” The officer’s voice turned rather cold.

“San.” Seonghwa stood up and wrapped his arms around the younger member. “It will be okay.”

“It won’t!” San tried to free from his hyung’s embrace, but Seonghwa held him firmly and the more San fought, the tighter the older boy’s grip was.

“San, please.”

“No! You don’t understand!” San cried desperately, giving up on trying to get rid of Seonghwa. “Wooyoung… Wooyoung wouldn’t… He would never… He… He…”

His lungs stopped working and his heart hurt so much, that San thought he was going to die.

“Wooyoung!” he shrieked in a panicky voice, his eyesight blurred as if he was looking through water. He couldn’t move, couldn’t run, couldn’t do anything. He called Wooyoung’s name over and over again, calling him for help, pleading with him to never leave.

He heard voices around him. He thought that one of them belonged to their manager, but he could hardly understand what it was saying. He remembered his body moving, he remembered he was led from the station, but he felt so oddly disconnected from everything that was going on around him. His heart beat wildly, painfully, and he could hear blood bubbling in his ears. Everything felt unreal. _He_ felt unreal. He wasn’t San anymore. He was just… someone.

His legs stopped listening to him and he would have fallen on the ground like a sack if a pair of strong hands hadn’t prevented him from it.

“San! Do you hear me?” someone called in his ear, but San didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything. He wanted to fall asleep and never ever wake up again. He hoped to meet Wooyoung in his dreams.

“Help him into the car,” he heard and was pushed gently into the vehicle. He felt a warm body next to him, protective arms holding him, a soft voice talking to him. And even though San felt strangely safe, he didn’t react to any of that. He was just a rag doll with no will.

He succumbed to the gentleness and welcomed the darkness that folded its arms around him with relief, his mind calling the beloved name in the last moments before he was wrapped in the dark velvet completely.

_Wooyoung…_

***

Seonghwa opened the door for the manager, who carried San’s limp body in his arms. After San’s breakdown in the police station, he and the manager had gotten him into the car and taken him home. San had cried himself to sleep and neither of the two had had the heart to wake him up when they had reached the dormitory.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Seonghwa’s voice sounded strange even to his own ears. He was still shaking with stress and he felt totally worn out. He wished to do the same as San, just lie down and sleep for a week, but on the other hand, he felt so nervous that he doubted he would have fallen asleep even if he had tried.

When they stepped inside, Hongjoong came out from the kitchen to greet them, but the moment he spotted their manager with San in his arms, he just stared.

Seonghwa didn’t follow the manager to the rooms. Instead, he looked at Hongjoong, who surely had millions of questions, but remained silent nevertheless.

“Where are the others?” Seonghwa broke the silence.

“Yeosang and Jongho were too nervous, so they went for a stroll, and Mingi and Yunho decided to fight their nervousness through dance practice.”

Seonghwa nodded slightly. Ever since they had been summoned to the hearings, the tension in the group increased. None of them knew what they could expect and it was no surprise for Seonghwa that while he and San had been gone, the others had looked for a way to relieve their stress.

“What about you?” he asked Hongjoong.

“I wanted to be here when you came back,” the leader said softly and glanced in the direction of the rooms. “What happened?”

Seonghwa sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “San made a scene and we needed to get him out of there. Then he cried and fell asleep in the car,” he said tiredly.

Hongjoong didn’t say anything to that.

“He’s breaking. I think he needs more than just therapy,” Seonghwa voiced his opinion, feeling frustrated. San wasn’t dealing with the situation at all and the eldest member was truly worried about him. He was so worried that he didn’t even have time for his own grief. “I need therapy myself…” he commented.

“You must be tired,” Hongjoong said gently.

“You have no idea. It was terrible…”

“Why don’t you sit down? I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t want tea,” Seonghwa said, “but I’ll sit down.” He looked at Hongjoong with a silent plea. He needed a friend right now, but something prevented him from saying it out loud. Hongjoong was dealing with his own shit and Seonghwa didn’t want to pull him into the mud of his own depression.

But Hongjoong didn’t seem to mind. “Okay. Come on,” he said, heading into the living room right away.

They had barely sat down when they heard steps and soon, the manager entered the room.

“San is sleeping and he probably will for some time. I’m going to the company now. Do you boys need anything?” he asked them, looking specifically at Seonghwa.

“No, thank you,” the older boy said, exhaustion seeping from his every word.

“Fine. If there is anything, just call me,” the manager said. “And get some rest, too, Seonghwa. You look like you really need it.”

Seonghwa sighed. “I’ll go to bed in a moment.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later,” the manager said before he left the two boys alone.

Seonghwa ran his hands over his face tiredly.

“Are you okay?” Hongjoong asked, watching his friend.

Seonghwa shook his head. “No, not really,” he sighed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Seonghwa thought about it. On one hand, he wanted to relieve his soul and say everything that bothered him, he wanted to finally grieve and not feel guilty for it, because he needed to be strong for the others, he wanted to let the world know about his pain. But on the other hand, he felt like he was betraying his group if he allowed himself to give in to his emotions.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly.

Hongjoong shifted closer and put his arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Being in his embrace felt like coming home after a very long journey. Even though he knew there was a great pressure on Hongjoong as their leader and Seonghwa sure as hell didn’t want to add to it, he desired to be consoled for once.

It seemed Hongjoong had an idea about what was going through Seonghwa’s head.

“It’s okay, no pressure,” he said gently as he kept holding him. “You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want. And if you decide you do, I’m always here to listen, okay?”

Seonghwa put his head on the leader’s shoulder, turning to him a little. “Okay,” he mumbled and then took a deep breath.

They were quiet for a couple of minutes, Seonghwa trying to calm down after the disaster during the interrogation. He was sure that Hongjoong was dying to know how things had gone there, but he didn’t ask and Seonghwa was thankful. He wanted to tell him, but he needed to sort out his own scattered thoughts first.

“Wooyoung was drugged,” he said, still feeling confused and hurt after the hearing.

He felt Hongjoong stiffen. “What?” Utter shock and disbelief sounded in the leader’s voice.

“The police said that at the time of his death, he was under the influence of narcotics.”

“That’s impossible,” Hongjoong said firmly.

“That’s what we said.”

“Wooyoung wasn’t stupid, he would never…” Hongjoong said, but suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

Seonghwa raised his head and looked the leader in the eyes. He could see that Hongjoong came to the same conclusion as he and San had.

The leader covered his mouth, wide eyes fixed at the eldest member and glistening with moisture. “No…”

Seonghwa nodded, his eyes stinging. He averted his look. “That was when San broke down,” he said, unable to stop the wet trails stretching over his cheeks. He tried to wipe them away, but with no success.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong sighed, folding his arms around the older member tightly, capturing him in a suffocating embrace, and Seonghwa absolutely didn’t mind that he could hardly breathe.

“I miss him,” he forced through the lump that had formed in his throat. “I miss both of them.”

“I know. Me too,” Hongjoong said sadly as he held Seonghwa, his quiet sobs betraying his own cry.

“Without WooSan in the house, I feel like I won’t ever be able to laugh again…”

Hongjoong sighed, not letting go. He rubbed Seonghwa’s back. “That’s understandable. You were close. Therefore, I think San will need you more than any of us.”

“I’m afraid we’re losing him, Hongjoong. Such news will only hurt him more. He’s not dealing and I’m scared we will lose him one day completely,” Seonghwa voiced his deepest concerns.

Hongjoong pulled away a little, looking his friend in the eyes.

“Seonghwa, we _won’t_ allow that,” he said firmly despite the tears still rolling down his cheeks. “We’ll be here for him. We won’t lose San. We won’t.”

Seonghwa nodded, thankful for the determination in Hongjoong’s voice, although he had his doubts. There wasn’t just one way to lose someone. But he was decided to never stop fighting for their little “family”. San could count on him just like on everyone else.

“We’ll do what we can,” Hongjoong said, rubbing Seonghwa’s back soothingly. “And whenever you need, I’m here for you.”

“Likewise,” Seonghwa said with a soft sigh.

He felt Hongjoong place a small kiss on his temple and knew he wasn’t alone in this fight. And that was an encouraging thought.


	5. Anger Within

San watched his reflection in the mirror in front of him as he danced to the non-existent music playing in his head, the motions fluent and smooth, the position precise, only his arm could be a little higher. He was alone in the practice room, but even if anyone had been there with him, he wouldn’t have felt embarrassed. He often used to recall a part of a song in his head and dance, no matter where he was and with whom.

He tried the move once more when the door of the practice room opened and San’s face lit up as he saw his boyfriend walk in. He didn’t turn around, though, shifting his attention back to the reflection of himself in the mirror and carried on with the practice, this time lifting the arm correctly.

The mirror showed him Wooyoung standing behind him, his arms wrapping around San’s middle and his chest pressing to the dancer’s back.

“Practicing already?” Wooyoung asked with a smile before he rested his chin on San’s shoulder, looking into the mirror as well.

San watched their reflection. Wooyoung’s hair was ruffled a little and he looked kind of sleepy, a sign that he had slept in the car through the ride to the company. And damn it, he looked hot… San tried not to think about taking Wooyoung into one of the small rooms for voice practice and ruffling his hair in a way inappropriate for being underage while wiping that sleepy expression off of Wooyoung’s face with his skillful ministrations.

He really should think of something else…

“Have you eaten already?” he asked, tilting his head towards his boyfriend.

“Not yet. Not hungry,” Wooyoung said, dark eyes meeting San’s. “Not for food, anyway,” he added.

“What then?” San asked, and his breathing became quicker.

Wooyoung smirked. “You.”

San felt heat spread through his body. Wooyoung could be such a tease and he knew it. He knew what his little remark did to San. His contentment was too obvious and San could only groan inwardly. Too bad they were supposed to practice now…

He still couldn’t resist connecting his lips with Wooyoung’s in a sensual kiss.

A groan came from behind their backs. “Really, guys? So early in the morning? You’ll give me morning sickness…”

Wooyoung broke the kiss, but didn’t pull away. He only looked over his shoulder at Yeosang.

“I doubt that watching people kiss would cause anyone morning sickness, smartass,” he said, laughing. “And since you’re a guy, even the right activity wouldn’t give it to you.”

“Gross,” Yeosang said, chuckling.

“Is Yunho coming?” San asked, turning around in Wooyoung’s arms so that he could look at Yeosang directly. Wooyoung remained glued to him, hugging San around his waist.

“Dunno. He mumbled something about coming later. Shall we start?” Yeosang asked.

“Yeah. Turn on the music,” Wooyoung said, his eyes finding San’s one more time. He smiled at his boyfriend, patting his rear playfully before tearing away from him.

The first tones of a song played and Wooyoung’s eyes sparkled. _Fake Love._ San laughed.

“Sorry! Didn’t want this one,” Yeosang called from the computer.

“No! No! Let it play!” Wooyoung shouted.

Yeosang rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he didn’t stop the song.

Wooyoung turned to San, grinning at him. “Ready, baby?”

San chuckled, standing in the right position, facing the mirror.

“I swear that if you two ever get married, I’ll make sure this plays at your wedding,” Yeosang commented, watching the two waiting for the chorus.

“Don’t be rude,” Wooyoung told him off and started dancing as the chorus finally started to play.

San watched their reflection in the mirror. They were in perfect sync, the movements fluent and precise, the chemistry obvious. He couldn’t hold back a smile, even though the lyrics were serious and the choreography full of sexual tension that required totally different types of expressions. Yet, when San looked at Wooyoung, his boyfriend was smiling as well.

They finished dancing to the chorus and Yeosang turned the music off.

San and Wooyoung looked at each other, big smiles on their faces.

The door of the room opened and Yunho walked in. “Hey, guys! What did I miss?”

“Not much,” Yeosang said from the computer. “WooSan had eyesex during _Fake Love_ and I’m trying to choose a proper song for practice.”

Yunho laughed.

“The choreography is supposed to be hot,” Wooyoung defended San’s and his pride.

“You two make it hotter than the original,” Yunho commented as he came up to Yeosang to help him choose the songs for practice.

Wooyoung pouted when he didn’t find any support from Yunho’s side.

San grinned, putting his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “You know they are right. The choreography _is_ hot,” he said.

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at San. “You are hot.”

“You are hotter,” San said without hesitation.

Wooyoung grinned and stepped away from San as _Wonderland_ blasted from the speakers.

“You guys ready?” Yeosang called through the noise.

“Always!” San shouted back, already moving to the beat.

***

San sighed over his notebook and put his head in his hands. He wanted to document the events of the last few days, but there was nothing worth mentioning except the dance practice with Yunho and Mingi. The doctor wanted to hear the good stuff, anyway, so why bother? He knew that he should also mention the news he had heard, but he wanted to erase that memory from his mind and from his life. He wanted to erase so much stuff...

He lifted his head and looked at what he had written so far. _Dance practice._ He remembered when dance practices used to be fun, just seven months ago. It felt like eternity now. He remembered laughter and games, he remembered the movements of Wooyoung’s body and the sparkle in his eyes when his favorite songs played.

Getting together had been kind of hard and slow, sometimes even painful because of the doubts San and Wooyoung had had at the begining. However, neither of them had ever regretted taking that step in the end. The members had also been very supportive, even though they liked to tease them. It had been the happiest time of San’s life...

Until it changed into a nightmare…

Maybe if San hadn’t gone into it with his whole heart, he wouldn’t be suffering now. But if he hadn’t given Wooyoung his everything, what would have been the point of being with him? He regretted nothing. Only living in this reality without Wooyoung in it…

He wiped away the tears that threatened to wet his cheeks and picked up a pen. With a heavy sigh he wrote a new note: _news._ He stared at the word for a few seconds. Written like that, it looked intimidating and San really didn’t feel like talking about the things that tended to reopen the wounds. He liked the numbness he had been living in at the moment. He missed so much of what was going on around him, but at least he didn’t think a lot about the emptiness in his soul. At least, he didn’t wish to follow Wooyoung to the other world so badly anymore…

He gripped the pen in his hand tighter and crossed the scary word out. No, he was not going to think about that. He wanted to forget. He wanted to forget all the lies about Wooyoung the media presented.

“San, are you ready?” he heard Hongjoong’s voice.

He looked over his shoulder, confused. “Ready for what?”

A light of disappointment flashed in Hongjoong’s eyes as he entered the room. San quickly turned away. He understood that he had forgotten about something again and that his leader was not happy about it.

“You have an appointment with your psychologist. I told you yesterday,” Hongjoong said. He came up to San and put his hand on his back, rubbing it gently.

San frowned a little. He remembered Hongjoong telling him about the appointment, but he really didn’t know when it had happened and when the leader had said the appointment was supposed to be.

“I’m sorry,” San apologized. He had been doing it a lot lately.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I’ve disturbed you. I see you’re writing in your diary, but the manager is already waiting for you.”

San looked at the crossed-out, scary word. “It’s okay. There’s nothing to write, anyway,” he said, closing the notebook and standing up from the table.

“I have a voice practice today, but Yunho or Seonghwa should be here,” the leader said as he watched San.

“Okay.” San didn’t care much who was going to be there when he returned. He would be tired and would go to bed anyway, so even if no one was there, he wouldn’t see the difference.

He put on a jacket, took the diary, and then left the room.

The manager tried to talk to him during the ride to the doctor, but San didn’t listen to him much. He still thought about the news he had heard accidentally. He wondered if the investigation of the circumstances of Wooyoung’s death revealed anything new that hadn’t been published yet.

“How have you been doing, San?” the doctor asked when he sat down on the familiar mint green couch in her office.

He shrugged. “Good.” It wasn’t that much of a lie. On the outside, he was doing better. The problem was his inside.

“May I see your diary?” she asked, and San handed it to her.

The doctor had flipped through a few pages before she got to the last notes. She read them carefully and she must have seen the sratched-out word, but she didn’t comment. Then she returned the diary to San.

“I want you to continue doing this, but try do add a note about your feelings as well. How you felt when you were doing this or that. Do you understand?” she gave him new homework.

San looked at her suspiciously. She wanted him to do exactly what he had avoided doing for a long time. He had worked hard to stop feeling anything. He had worked hard on being able to breathe again. Did she really want him to wake up his demons and make him die over and over again? Was this the punishment for the crossed-out word?

He didn’t say anything, so she continued talking to him. San listened to her, sometimes answered her questions, sometimes ignored them. She asked him many things. She wanted to know how other members were doing, how much time San spent with them, how he felt about it and if he could change one thing about his current life what it would have been.

“I want Wooyoung’s name to be cleared,” he said without hesitation. “That’s the only thing that matters.”

She remained quiet for a few heartbeats and wrote something down. Then, she looked at him, her expression unreadable.

“I understand that it’s important for you and I’m sure police are doing as much as they can in this matter,” she said gently. “But being fixated on that is not doing you any good. You’re living in the past, San, and I’m here to help you to restart your life in the present. But I won’t be able to do it unless you allow me to do so. Will you, San?”

***

After the interrogation, San didn’t know how days went by. He stayed in his bed most of the time, trying to sleep as much as he could so that he didn’t need to deal with reality. He totally lost track of time and if the guys hadn’t brought him food, he would have stopped eating altogether. Along with his appetite, he lost his will to live and his determination to achieve anything. Sometimes, nightmares attacked his dreams. Sometimes, he was wrapped in cotton-candy sweetness of the dreams of Wooyoung. But most of the time, he was wrapped in nothingness that held no promises, but also didn’t remind him his sorrow.

San’s family wanted to take him home for some time and that was the first time since Wooyoung’s death when San woke up from his apathy and made a scene. He didn’t understand himself why he was so much against going home, he knew that changing the environment would do him good, but he couldn’t help the feeling that if he went, he would have lost something important. He knew that Seonghwa, Yunho, Mingi, and Yeosang planned to go to visit their families for some time after their questionings were over and their grief therapy schedules allowed that, and even though he spent minimum time with them, he didn’t like the thought of them being gone. He didn’t say anything, however, knowing he was being selfish. He understood they needed to get out this place of misery. Everyone dealt with the current circumstances the best they could.

It was one of the rare moments when he decided to get out of bed and get some food for himself. He met Hongjoong and Jongho in the kitchen. They had been engrossed in a conversation, but stopped speaking as soon as San appeared there.

“Hey, San,” Hongjoong greeted him with a soft smile.

“Hey,” San said back without looking at either of them and going right for the fridge.

“Jongho and I want to go out for a bit and we wondered…” Hongjoong had made a small pause before he continued again, “… if you’d like to join us.”

Silence fell during which San could hear his heartbeat. He stepped away from the fridge, looking at the two questioningly. They stared at him with expectation and maybe even with something he could call hope. Did they really want him to go with them? Go OUT?

“I think you’d do better without me,” he said, his voice blank. He turned back to the fridge, thinking what he was going to eat. Nothing looked like anything he wanted at the moment. Actually, he didn’t want anything, but he couldn’t remember when he had eaten last and he didn’t want the members constantly reminding him that he should.

“Actually, we wouldn’t,” Jongho said this time.

“How come?” San asked, still inspecting the fridge. If he wanted to be honest, he didn’t really care about the answer. It just seemed polite to ask.

“Because we miss you,” Hongjoong said. “You barely leave your room. We think that exchanging the four walls for a little bit of sunshine would do you good. And you won’t be alone. We’ll be there with you.”

San was quiet for a moment. He closed the fridge, not taking anything out of it, and turned to the two.

“I don’t miss the sunshine,” he said, looking somewhere behind them. “I don’t miss the world outside.” He especially didn’t miss being reminded that time flowed and separated him from Wooyoung more and more every day.

“How about us?” Hongjoong asked, his eyes fixed on San, who felt as if he was being pierced by the intensity of the leader’s gaze. There was no escape.

“Fine,” San muttered, not happy about being blackmailed like this. Hongjoong must have known that his question was a low blow and he still had the audacity to use San’s love for his “brothers” against him. San felt trapped. “I’m going to get ready,” he snapped, turning around and walking out of the kitchen.

***

San’s annoyance just intensified when he stepped out of the house. The world around looked the same as before the tragic night, only San knew it wasn’t the same without Wooyoung in it. But who out of those people walking around knew that such an important element was missing in the universe now? San couldn’t get rid of the feeling of unfairness. Wooyoung had loved life, so why him? What had he done to deserve to be beaten to death? Drugged and dumped on the lawn in a park like trash? Who had been so cruel as to do such a thing to the cheerful, gentle, loving Wooyoung?

They didn’t go far. They kept close to the dorm where people were used to them and knew better than to bother them. San couldn’t relax even though the weather was nice and Hongjoong and Jongho were patient with him.

As they came closer to a convenience store a little down the street they were walking, the concentration of people increased. San ignored them with a slight frown on his face.

“Maybe we could buy some snacks. What do you think?” Hongjoong asked.

“If you want to,” San said indifferently. “I’ll wait outside.” He didn’t want anything from the store and tagging along just for the sake of it while the guys would be moving through the narrow aisles seemed pointless.

Hongjoong gave him a scrutinizing look.

“What?” San snapped. “I can be alone for a moment.”

At least Hongjoong had the decency to look embarrassed. He seemed to want to say something, but Jongho was quicker.

“We know you can,” the youngest member said and pushed the leader towards the store. “We’ll be right back.”

“Uhm,” San muttered, looking away. The street was lively. Time went by and people pursued their errands; only San stood there, still angry and helpless, feeling how Wooyoung’s presence in the world was dissipating slowly in the flow of time.

The leader and the maknae disappeared into the store and San was left alone. He looked around the street, spotting a flower store close by. Buckets full of flowers were placed outside of the store and people could just choose from the various kinds right there on the street. San watched them buying bouquets for different occasions – maybe celebrations, birthdays, husbands to show their love for their wives, boyfriends to their girlfriends, children to their moms… And maybe someone was there to buy flowers to pay respect to their deceased loved ones. 

A few buckets of roses were placed there, too. The various colors of the queenly flowers attracted San’s attention, taking him back to the times when he had discussed old dreams with Wooyoung or when he had seen his boyfriend making that little bouquet of his on White Day. San had promised himself that day to make the most beautiful bouquet of roses and give it to Wooyoung for their first anniversary which they would have celebrated in barely a month if things had been different.

Wooyoung had liked roses. And San liked flowers in general. Flowers spoke a universal language. People could express so many things through flowers – they could confess their feelings or apologize, they could say how happy they were to see someone, or how much the other person meant to them. They could also say how much they missed their loved one…

San walked to the store slowly, already choosing the most beautiful roses as he went, and when he reached the store, he knew exactly which flowers he wanted and what he wanted the bouquet to look like. Dark red roses – just like blood mixing with dirt under trees in a park – tied with a black satin ribbon, reflecting the sorrow tormenting San’s heart.

“May I help you?” the saleswoman asked him.

“Yes, thank you,” San said, turning to the bucket with the flowers he had chosen. He told the woman what he wished his bouquet to look like. She gave him a compassionate look when he told her about the black ribbon as she understood the meaning.

He waited outside, fishing money from the back pocket of his jeans, when suddenly he heard a female’s voice close by.

“I’m sorry for my rudeness. Are you Choi San?” the question sounded, and when he looked who addressed him, he saw a woman in stylish clothes and a coat perfectly complementing her outfit. But these weren’t the things that caught San’s attention. The woman held a phone, its microphone directed at San. She blurted her name and the name of some newspaper, magazine or a TV program. San didn’t catch it, because his brain was still processing the fact that he was disturbed by a reporter while he was buying flowers for his dead boyfriend.

“I…” he started, not ready for such a situation. His eyes scanned the area quickly, looking for Hongjoong and Jongho or any help he could get at this moment.

“I only want to express my deepest condolences,” the woman continued.

“Thank you,” San said, feeling anxious. He glanced towards the open door of the store, hoping his bouquet would be done soon and he would be free to go.

“I understand that you all are going through hard time, but I still hope you could maybe answer a few simple questions?” the woman asked, invading San’s personal space, her phone close to his face.

He stepped away from her. “I’m sorry, I can’t answer any of your questions without our manager’s permission.”

“I understand, but surely you can answer at least one.”

San glanced at the door of the store again. The saleswoman just came out with the bouquet of roses for him. “I can’t,” he said to the reporter. “If you’ll excuse me now, I’m just trying to buy some flowers.”

He walked towards the saleswoman to pay for his purchase. He had to admit the bouquet was beautiful. Wooyoung deserved the best things. Even when he wasn’t there anymore. San’s heart squeezed painfully at the thought. He was sure Wooyoung would have loved the bouquet…

The moment the saleswoman left him alone, the reporter invaded his personal space again. She was like a leech, following his every move and not letting him go.

“It will be just one question. Please,” she said, her phone in San’s face.

“I said I can’t. I need to go now. Goodbye.” He wanted to go, to run, to hide from her. It was a mistake to go out, to face the world, which he hated even more now.

“Those flowers are for Wooyoung, right?” she shot her question, and San winced. The name coming so carelessly from a stranger’s mouth felt weird and improper.

“The public already knows that he was involved in drug business and prostitution. Can you tell me more about it?” the reporter continued, not giving him a chance to escape.

San’s lungs stopped working for a moment. His narrow eyes were suddenly wide and round. “What?” The bouquet fell out of his hands.

“San!” Jongho’s voice sounded somewhere close to his ear and still so far.

“What are you doing!? Leave him alone!” Hongjoong stood next to him and he was angry. “We can’t answer any of your questions without our manager present, so leave us be!”

“Come on, San.” Jongho’s strong arms grabbed him and pulled him away.

San looked back only for a second to see the red roses bound with the black ribbon end up under the feet of the reporter and passers-by. Stomped on and dirtied. Just like Wooyoung’s life…


	6. Dark Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More dark things come out.

“No! No, San, you can’t do that!”

“Who said so?”

“I did. There are rules.”

“I don’t want to break them. I just want to adjust them a little.”

“No!”

The argument went on for a few more minutes until San gave up. He won the game in the end, but Wooyoung was moody for the rest of the day.

“If you get like this every time we play a game, I’m not playing with you again,” San warned as he was chilling in Wooyoung and Yeosang’s shared room.

“Too bad, because we have to play games for V LIVE,” Wooyoung retorted in his bitchy tone.

“Wooyoung, I’m not going to argue with you about such a stupid thing,” San said. “I’m not going to argue with you about any game in general. They are not worth having a fight with you.”

Wooyoung, hugging a pillow, fixed his eyes on his boyfriend. He seemed to not want to let go of his annoyance so easily, but he also didn’t want to be a brat about the whole thing.

“Fine,” he said in the end, breaking the eye contact, fluffing the pillow in his hands. “But don’t try to break the rules again.”

“I said…” San started, but when Wooyoung looked at him again, he left the rest of the sentence unspoken. “Sure, no breaking rules,” he said, giving Wooyoung a small smile.

“Thank you,” Wooyoung said, not returning the smile. He turned away from San.

San rolled his eyes. Of course, Wooyoung and his moods… He pulled closer, his arms finding their way around Wooyoung’s waist, his mouth close to his boyfriend’s ear. Wooyoung let him, but his reaction was close to zero.

“I have an idea for a game,” San whispered.

Wooyoung turned his head away from him. “Suddenly.”

San’s hand started sliding down Wooyoung’s body, its aim more than obvious, but Wooyoung stopped it, still not looking at San.

“The guys are home,” he said, freeing himself from San’s embrace and standing up. “And I still have English to study.”

“We can study together,” San offered, making himself more comfortable on Wooyoung’s bed.

Wooyoung sighed and ran his hand through his hair, his back turned to San. “Okay,” he said finally.

A few days later when the band was playing a game during their V LIVE broadcast, San tried to adjust the rules again.

“No!” Wooyoung protested immediately and very loudly. “No, no, no!”

San took a deep breath, turning to his boyfriend. Wooyoung challenged him with his gaze, pouting like a little kid.

“We said we wouldn’t get angry over such things!” San said strictly.

“No!” Wooyoung repeated in a strong disagreement, shaking his head a little, his dark eyes still fixed on San. “No changing the rules.”

San rolled his eyes, but he didn’t try to persuade the others. He and Mingi, with whom he had been paired, lost the game with honor and accepted their punishment to go on V LIVE, wearing dinosaur costumes. San didn’t mind the punishment and he thought it could be fun, but what really made him think it was worth losing the game was Wooyoung’s laughter later in the evening when the group had gotten home after the long day and the two lovers enjoyed some time just for the two of them in San and Yunho’s room. Yunho knew that he should keep out of the room at the moment if he didn’t want to see something very private.

“I’ll come see you,” Wooyoung said with a chuckle while San’s hands worshipped his body.

“Okay. Will you laugh again?” San asked, his lips gracing the soft skin under Wooyoung’s collar bone.

“Sure. If you are funny.” Wooyoung threaded his fingers through San’s hair.

“I’m always funny,” San stated, making Wooyoung laugh again.

Yunho didn’t return into the room for the next hour…

***

San rolled on his other side, lost in his thoughts, hugging his plushies.

Wooyoung had been a moody guy. When he had sulked, he made sure people around him had known about it, especially the one responsible for Wooyoung’s bad mood. San had learned to deal with his boyfriend’s mood swings and he had never thought much about them. They had been part of Wooyoung’s nature, had made him the person San had loved and cherished and they had definitely had nothing to do with drug use or any shit the media presented him to have been involved in.

San hated it.

San hated the world.

San hated his incapability to do anything about it. It had been months and the world still believed that Wooyoung had been one of the bad guys.

The helplessness was killing San from the inside. He was breaking apart little by little, piece by piece, day by day.

He glanced at his computer. It had been some time since he had last turned it on. Once or twice he had played a game with Yunho, but there was no true joy in it anymore. Yunho seemed to have given up on playing video games with San anymore, realizing that there was no true bonding if only one of them enjoyed the game.

But San didn’t use his computer only for gaming. There were other things he used to do. For example, browsing internet for information.

He crawled out of bed and came up to his desk. Not thinking too much about what he wanted to do, he pushed the ON button and waited until the computer started. No more than a minute later he had an internet browser open and was writing the keywords: _Jung Wooyoung death._ The browser found many articles, most of them old and quoting one another, but almost every one of them bringing up not only the information about that dreadful night, but also the dirt that had been thrown on Wooyoung’s name.

_Jung Wooyoung involved in drug business. Jung Wooyoung – idol or drug dealer? Jung Wooyoung and human trafficking. Jung Wooyoung, mediator in illegal business…_

San had already known those headlines. He had known them from those first weeks after Wooyoung’s death. A few people had been accused and put on trial, but San had no idea if they had been sentenced to prison. The only important thing for him was that there was not even a single article saying that Wooyoung had been innocent.

“Dammit!” he cursed, frustrated with the result of his search. He knew there were videos of those people, there were videos from the trials. He had seen two or three of them before Hongjoong had forbidden him from watching them anymore and from watching the news in general after San had his third breakdown in a row.

Yeah, they were rough times for everyone. They still were rough for San. At least, he managed to look at those headlines without the urge to run to the bathroom and vomit his stomach out of his body. 

It was too late when he realized the sound of the steps coming to his room.

“What are you doing, Sannie?” Hongjoong’s voice sounded from behind his back and a hand was laid on his shoulder.

San frowned, but he didn’t look at the leader. He didn’t shake his hand away, either. “I want to know…” he started, his voice rough, laced with anger he had been holding inside for months.

“Do you really?” Hongjoong interrupted him, his tone soft unlike San’s.

San took a deep breath. “No, not really,” he said, glaring at the screen showing him old articles. There seemed to be no update in Wooyoung’s case, but maybe that was good. San wasn’t sure he would be able to bear more dirt tossed on Wooyoung’s innocence. But on the other hand, he had hoped to find something new. “No one seems to care anymore anyway,” he summed up the result of his search.

Hongjoong’s hand slid to his collar bones and the other joined it from the other side. San closed his eyes for a moment. Wooyoung used to hold him like that…

“The police care,” Hongjoong said in a low voice.

“No, they don’t. It’s been months and people still think that Wooyoung…” His throat tightened and he couldn’t continue. He felt even more helpless.

Hongjoong bent lower and his cheek pressed to San’s. “I know. And it’s unfair. Wooyoung doesn’t deserve it. Unfortunately, it’s not in our power to do anything about it. The police do their job and we have ours. We need to concentrate on the things we _can_ do, what we’re good at. What _our job is_.”

San kept glaring at the screen. As much as he hated to admit it, Hongjoong was right.

“Come on now. We have practice,” he said, letting go of San, but not leaving. He waited until the younger member turned off the computer and followed him out of the room.

***

After the incident in front of the flower store, things started going from bad to worse. San desperately wanted to know what the reporter’s words meant and what he found out shook his world immensely. He had known about the rumors about drugs, but human trafficking? That was something completely new and it took only a few seconds needed to type Wooyoung’s name in the search bar of an internet browser before the flood of articles made his insides turn out. When Hongjoong found him in the bathroom crying and throwing up, even though there was nothing to get out of his stomach anymore, he must have thought that San was dying of some lethal illness. Maybe that was why he called an ambulance. San didn’t have much recollection of what happened after that. When he woke up, he was told it was a new day.

The rest of the group didn’t spend much time with their families, either. Seonghwa returned after probably four days, saying that he had felt like he was suffocating there. Yunho came back the day after the eldest member, pale and almost scared to look at San. Mingi was the first one who voiced the issue, and they were also his first words after he had stepped into the dormitory.

“What the hell is that mess in the media!? How _dare_ they spread such nasty lies!”

Yeosang, on the other hand, didn’t say a word except a mumbled greeting. He returned as the last one and he looked more tired than when he had left.

San retreated into his inner world, because every time he tried to interact with his surroundings, he only ended up more hurt than he was. He hated the pitying glances in his direction, hated the whispered conversations that always stopped when he entered the room, hated himself for wanting to know more and then finding out something he would rather have forgotten.

_… police arrested a suspect in the drug business and human trafficking…_

_… during the interrogation the suspect confirmed that some artists and musicians were involved in this matter…_

_… the interrogation revealed that one of the big fish was also the recently deceased member of the boy band Ateez, Jung Wooyoung…_

San’s insides always twisted when he found such bullshit. He knew what was going on. The dead couldn’t defend themselves…

_“He was the man behind everything. You wanted drugs? No problem. You wanted girls? Jung Wooyoung got them for you. But I heard he was having problems with his distributor lately…”_

Of course, saying that Wooyoung had problems with the underworld was the easiest way to get rid of the responsibility for everything that had happened that night. According to the false accusations, he took his friends to a club known for illegal activities, promising fun that turned out to be drugs and girls forced into prostitution. Saying that Wooyung was involved in such a thing turned his death into something not even worth mentioning. In the eyes of the public, Wooyoung stopped being an innocent victim of a terrible deed. He was just another of those spoilt brats, who didn’t know how to deal with too much fame. And even worse. They turned him into a bad guy who wouldn’t be missed by anyone…

“Enough! You’re forbidden from the news. You’re forbidden from the internet!” Hongjoong yelled. San had never seen him so angry before. And the leader was damn scary. “It’s messing with you. It’s messing with your head!” Hongjoong continued, unplugging San’s computer and confiscating his phone and tablet. “It’s messing with all of us…” he muttered under his breath as he was leaving the room. San watched him from his bed where Hongjoong had helped him after he had found San crying in the bathroom again. 

“What’s the matter?” Seonghwa asked as he met the leader in the doorway.

“Nothing and everything!” Hongjoong snapped, still fuming.

Seonghwa winced at the tone. Hongjoong, even when he was angry, never snapped like that at anyone. He never needed to raise his voice to make the others behave; one look or word was usually enough for everyone to understand the leader was being serious and they stopped their antics immediately.

Seonghwa looked at San hugging Kuma, the plushie he had gotten from Yunho. San’s face was mostly hidden by the toy, only one red eye squinted at the eldest member.

Seonghwa glanced over his shoulder at the retreating back of the leader before he turned to San again. He came up to the bed and sat down next to the younger boy.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked in that gentle voice of his, his hand extending to San’s back and rubbing it soothingly.

San breathed in and then shook his head. He couldn’t repeat those terrible things, but he was sure that Seonghwa would figure everything out sooner or later. Either that or Hongjoong would tell him. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Seonghwa asked again.

This time San reacted with pushing the plushie away and plastering himself to the older member’s side, his long arms hugging Seonghwa around his waist.

Seonghwa returned the hug, running his hand through San’s dark hair. “Are you okay?”

San shook his head and hid his face in the embrace. His eyes stung and he couldn’t prevent the tears that started rolling down his cheeks again. Seonghwa held him, rubbing his back soothingly, not saying anything. There were no words that could bring San comfort at the moment, there was nothing that could take that pain away. Seonghwa knew it and probably was looking for the same silent consolation as San since his hug tightened.

“I miss him so much,” San whispered in Seonghwa’s sweater.

The older member buried his fingers in San’s hair, holding him close. “Me too,” he said, his voice cracking on the last syllable.

They stayed like that for a long time, holding on to each other as if for dear life and sobbing quietly, looking for the strength neither of them had in the shared sorrow.

They were falling.

***

Seonghwa entered the room he shared with Hongjoong. The leader sat on his bed, his computer in his lap, his eyes red, his face puffy.

“Are you all right?” Seonghwa asked, as he came up to the bed.

“No.” Hongjoong didn’t even look up at his older friend and roommate as he said that.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m here,” Seonghwa said gently.

Hongjoong glanced at him, evidently annoyed. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he snapped, returning his attention to the screen.

Seonghwa didn’t get discouraged; quite the opposite. Hongjoong was always there for them, no matter what, and Seonghwa could imagine how difficult this whole situation was for him. He could see how hard Hongjoong tried to hold up for the six of them. But even the leader had his limits and he was reaching them right now.

“Why are you angry?” he asked softly.

The look Hongjoong gave him would turn even flames to ice.

“I’m not angry, Seonghwa, I’m furious,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Some assholes drugged and killed our member and dragged his name through dirt. The media are full of it. Mingi and Jongho are angry, too, San is losing his mind, Yeosang is barely talking to anyone, and Yunho…” He looked away, gritting his teeth, wet trails started stretching down his cheeks. “I’m trying to stay strong for all of you, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to go on like this for too long.”

“Hey,” Seonghwa said quietly and sat down on the bed next to his friend, who was trying to hide his face from him. “You are not alone in this. You have all of us.” He rubbed Hongjoong’s arm gently and when the leader didn’t pull away, Seonghwa took the laptop and put it aside. Hongjoong only looked at it sadly. When Seonghwa glanced at the screen, he noticed a photo of all eight of them taken just a couple of weeks before Wooyoung’s death. Everyone was smiling, none of them expecting the tragedy that followed.

Seonghwa pulled Hongjoong into his arms. His roommate didn’t resist, hiding his face in the crook between Seonghwa’s neck and shoulder. The older member hugged Hongjoong tightly.

“You always have me.”


	7. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> San needs to make an important decision.

San moaned loudly. Wooyoung’s teeth grazed his neck just on the right spot where his artery was hidden under the thin layer of skin. He was thankful for the door he was leaning against, because the hand in his pants did a damn good job to make him lose his last sliver of clarity. His arms were wrapped around Wooyoung’s neck for support since his legs felt like jelly and San didn’t know how long they would hold him.

“Wooyoung…” he moaned again, narrowing his eyes in bliss and looking at his boyfriend from under his eyelashes.

Wooyoung leaned in, capturing San’s mouth; their tongues met in a passionate dance. San wrapped his arms tighter around Wooyoung, holding him close. The hand in San’s pants was trying to do its job, but in the constricted space of the clothes it was rather hard. Wooyoung’s hand stilled and San whimpered into his boyfriend’s mouth disapprovingly, pushing his hips forward into the hand that kept cupping his treasure.

Wooyoung shared more saliva with him before he broke the kiss. San wanted to follow his mouth, but Wooyoung spoke before San could connect their lips once again.

“I want to suck you off.”

San groaned. Their eyes met, Wooyoung’s so deep, desire reflecting in them. It was hard to resist him when he looked at San like that. Not that San had enough brain cells willing to turn down such a request. Wooyoung’s tongue on him was definitely one of the best things on Earth.

“Y-yes,” San stuttered, trying to catch his breath.

“Good,” Wooyoung said, satisfied, and his lips stretched into a smug grin. “And then…” His other hand moved to San’s behind and squeezed it.

San cursed under his breath. “So dirty…”

“I can’t help it. You’re so hot,” Wooyoung purred and pressed his mouth under San’s ear.

San gasped as his lover started placing kisses down his jaw. “You’re hot yourself,” he returned the compliment.

Wooyoung chuckled into his skin. He pulled his hand out of San’s pants, which only made the older growl in protest, and pulled him towards the bunk bed. He pushed San down on the lower bed, following him. Their mouths connected in a hungry kiss again, Wooyoung’s hands on San’s body, rolling up his shirt. San hissed and sighed when Wooyoung pinched his nipple. His own hands found their way under Wooyoung’s T-shirt, touching his naked skin.

“Come on, guys! Not on my bed,” a sudden protest made them tear away from each other. When they looked towards the door, Yunho was standing there, his hand over his eyes.

Wooyoung stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry, we got carried away.”

San quickly pushed everything that wasn’t supposed to be out of his pants back in.

“That’s been happening a lot lately,” Yunho commented. “Is it safe to pull my hand away?”

San zipped his pants. “Yeah…” He stood up as well just when Yunho’s hand sank from his eyes. “Weren’t you supposed to be practicing?” he asked.

“We did. It got late, so we came back,” Yunho said.

San looked at his roommate, confused, then he turned to Wooyoung, who grabbed San’s phone from the desk nearby and checked the time.

“Oops,” he said, laughing cutely. “We kinda lost track of time.”

“Another thing that keeps happening a lot as well,” Yunho commented, unimpressed.

“We’re sorry,” San said, his hand resting around Wooyoung’s waist.

Yunho sized them up with a doubtful look. “Seriously, guys. Don’t you want to switch a roommate? I really wouldn’t mind living with Yeosang.”

“Really?” asked WooSan in unison, both perplexed, but their eyes shining as they imagined the possibilities such an offer brought them.

“You mean it?” San asked, still a little unsure. “Because it’s not like I don’t want to share the room with you anymore. I like living with you…”

“Trust me, I mean it,” Yunho assured him.

“What about Yeosang?” Wooyoung asked rather cagily.

“I doubt he’ll have anything against the new arrangements. He’ll probably be happy to be able to come into his room without the fear of seeing something that can’t be unseen.”

“Yunho, you’re the best,” San said, leaving Wooyoung’s side and coming up to Yunho to hug him.

“Thanks for thinking so,” Yunho laughed, returning the hug.

San chuckled, and when his eyes met Wooyoung’s after a moment, he could see the little sparkles of happiness shining in them.

“I suggest doing it on Sunday,” Yunho said. “We’ll tell Yeosanga about the plan until then, and we have nothing scheduled on Sunday, so we’ll have enough time to move all your stuff.”

“Okay. And who’s moving?” Wooyoung asked.

“Yunho had the idea, so of course, he’s moving out of here and you’re moving in,” San said.

“Why are you so sure?” Wooyoung asked with a raised eyebrow. “You spend so much time in our room that you’re practically living there already.”

San laughed, hugging Wooyoung tighter.

“Okay, we’ll talk about the details later,” Yunho interrupted them. “I can’t wait to turn in,” he added and yawned.

“Noted,” Wooyoung said with a grin, turning to San. “I’m going. I’ll see you in the morning.” His hand slid down San’s back and squeezed his butt subsequently. “Love you.”

“Love you,” San returned the words with a happy smile, letting go of his boyfriend, watching him walk towards the door.

Yunho just rolled his eyes at them and proceeded further into the room.

“Good night, Yunho,” Wooyoung parted with him for the night.

“Good night.”

“Prepare Yeosang for the roommate exchange!” San called after his boyfriend, who laughed as he exited the room.

“Will do. See ya!”

Unfortunately, Fate planned something completely different for them. The very next night, the flame of Wooyoung’s life was abruptly extinguished…

***

San sighed, turning away from the window he had been staring from while thinking about the past, and looked around his room. It felt strangely empty even though San’s things were everywhere. The atmosphere of sadness breathed from every corner. San was suffocating in his own room, knowing that no one could be blamed for it but himself. There were also a few things that belonged to the other members – Yunho’s mug, Seonghwa’s book and Mingi’s jacket hanging over the backrest of San’s chair – but all those things looked totally out of place.

San closed his eyes and tried to imagine how the room would have looked like with Wooyoung’s things scattered around. Warmer? Cozier? Definitely more welcoming. But life was unfair and San had never gotten the chance to find out what their lives would have looked like if he and Wooyoung had become roommates. What he had gotten instead were the other members taking turns in his room for no more than two, three nights in a row. They didn’t want to leave him alone when his nightmares struck and he kept calling Wooyoung’s name, crying so hard he could hardly breathe. But after such nights, they were absolutely drained in the morning and needed their time away from him. It got better after a few months. He still had nightmares, but he didn’t scream in his sleep anymore, and even though the guys kept taking rounds in his room, they were able to stay with him much longer.

No, he didn’t scream and call for Wooyoung, but the pain wasn’t any less, it just turned blunt and easier to hide. It didn’t matter how much time had passed; San missed Wooyoung as much as the first day. Life was so unfair to the ones who worked hard to make the world a better place. San’s anger at that injustice made him indifferent to his own efforts to be better – a better person, better friend, better artist. He just… was. Existed somewhere in a void, not part of the world behind the window, not part of the world Wooyoung had passed to.

There were rough days when nothing made sense and San drowned in his own misery. But there were also good days when he wanted to be the person Wooyoung had known and cared for. As for today, things seemed okay. He and Jongho planned a trip to the cemetery while the others were at the company. The manager was supposed to pick them up and take them by car. Ever since the incident with the reporter in front of the flower store, the manager had always accompanied them wherever they went – even if they just visited the conveniece store in the ground level of the KQ building.

“Thank you for coming with me,” San said to the maknae.

Jongho gave him a small smile. “Thank you for letting me go with you. I haven’t been there for some time already and I want to pay respect.”

Their first stop was at a flower store. San bought two roses – a red one for the love he still felt and a white one for the love he had lost. Bound with a black ribbon, the simple bouquet represented his inner world perfectly. Jongho chose his own flowers as did the manager and after that, they could continue on their trip to the cemetery.

Walking among the gravestones was never easy for San. The flowers in his hands suddenly weighed a lot more and the pain in his heart became sharp. The quietness of the place strengthened the reverent atmosphere and San felt guilt for being alive while Wooyoung…

Even after the months since the burial, the name on the gravestone looked surreal, making San hope that it was just a cruel mistake, even though he knew it wasn’t. Wooyoung was gone and San missed him like crazy.

“What I would give for the chance to tell him one more time how much he meant to me,” he said with a quiet sigh as he stood in front of the gravestone, the cold lines of the letters reminding him why he was here.

“He knew that,” Jongho said quietly as he put his arm around San’s shoulders. “You meant very much to him, too.”

“We were supposed to share a room. Yunho suggested that after he caught us. Again. We were supposed to do it the following Sunday, but…” San took a deep breath and quickly wiped the tears that started rolling down his cheeks.

Jongho tightened the embrace, looking at San. “Don’t you want to put your flowers in the vase?” he asked softly.

San nodded and came up to the grave. He knelt down and put the roses into the stone vase next to the gravestone. He felt Jongho’s hand on his shoulder.

“You always bring these…” said the maknae.

“Roses were his favorite flowers,” San explained quietly.

“I know,” Jongho said softly and crouched next to San. He added his own bouquet in the vase, the roses in contrast with the yellow chrysanthemums. Their manager put his flowers into the vase as well and then stood there with the two boys.

He put his hand on San’s shoulder in an encouraging gesture. “It will be okay, I promise.”

“No. This will never be okay,” San said, his voice as hard and cold as the stone on Wooyoung’s grave. “I’m just waiting for when it finally gets a little better,” he added, anger obvious in his tone.

“San,” Jongho addressed him quietly, but San looked away.

“Let’s go.”

The coldness in San’s voice made even Jongho shiver. He said nothing more as he followed San and their manager from the cemetery. San didn’t look back even a single time, his fists clenched. He waited for Wooyoung’s name to be cleared for so long, but the only thing he had gotten so far was the statement from the police that his boyfriend could never have drugged himself that night, considering the strange angle of the puncture marks on his arm. But the police had never said anything about Wooyoung not being involved in any of that dirt his name had been dragged through. And that made San even more frustrated. It felt like even the police didn’t believe Wooyoung was an innocent victim who had paid for his being in the wrong place at the wrong time in the worst possible way.

_If only I could tell him one more time that I love him …_

***

San leaned against the backrest of his chair, staring at an old photo on the computer screen in his practice room in the company. He should be practicing his singing, but he couldn’t bring himself to start. The other guys had worked their asses off for their comeback, which was going to happen either with or without him, he just needed to choose the option. San really didn’t want to leave the group, he loved the guys like his own family, but he wasn’t sure if it was enough. He wasn’t convinced that him staying was good for the group. But…

How could just six make one team?

They were Ateez. There were eight of them…

Eight…

He was aware that while he had been drowning in his sorrow, the others engrossed themselves in their personal projects to keep the attention of their fans. Hongjoong made his song covers, Seonghwa posted ASMR videos, Jongho covered two or three songs from K-drama soundtracks, Yunho probably continued in his Anewz, Mingi became a fashion consultant or whatever, and Yeosang… He had no idea what Yeosang did. The guy was quiet, even quieter than usual, and sometimes San felt like Wooyoung’s roommate was avoiding him. He just couldn’t think of any reason why Yeosang would have been doing that. They hadn’t had a fight; actually they talked to each other so rarely that San couldn’t remember the last time they had a long conversation together.

He frowned at the photo in front of him. Two young boys, just trainees at that time, having big hopes for their future. Being happy that they had gotten to know each other. Best friends who had become lovers.

“What shall I do?” he asked the ghost of the dead boy smiling at him from the screen. “How am I supposed to go on without you? What exactly happened that night when you didn’t return to me? Tell me, Wooyoung.”

But he knew he would never get a satisfying answer to any of those questions.

***

“I understand. Thank you.” Hongjoong pulled away the phone from his ear and looked at the computer screen in front of him. He had been composing a new song, but he wasn’t satisfied with it. It was missing something essential, something that defined Ateez.

Maybe it was because they weren’t Ateez anymore. There wasn’t eight of them and their team had been falling apart for months. Hongjoong knew something was about to happen and he was scared.

Something was going to happen right now.

He looked at his phone again and opened the contact list. He tapped on one of the names and pressed the phone to his ear again. After the fourth ring the person on the other side picked up.

“Seonghwa, where are you? Are you alone?” He listened to the eldest member and then continued. “All right. Can all of you come to my studio, please? I’ll call Mingi and Jongho. We need to talk.” He sighed after he heard Seonghwa’s question. “Yes, it’s about San. We’ve waited too long and we need to decide what to do.” Another pause. “Thank you, Seonghwa.” His voice got gentler at the last words and when the eldest member hung up, Hongjoong suddenly felt small and frightened to his very core.

He made quick calls to the two mentioned, already tired of everything.

“I’m on my way,” Mingi said without hesitation, not even asking what was up.

“Are you all right, hyung?” Jongho had asked before Hongjoong disconnected the call.

“No, I’m not. Can you hurry, please?”

It was amazing how quickly everyone arrived. Usually, the group needed at least fifteen minutes before the members managed to gather, but probably the urgency in Hongjoong’s voice made them react as fast as possible.

“Thank you for being so prompt,” he started hesitantly, looking at them nervously.

“You said it was about San,” Yeosang reminded him, leaning against a wall a little further from the others, arms folded over his chest.

“Yes… Well… It’s partly about him,” Hongjoong took a deep breath. “The company wants our statement about the new member.” He looked at the others, not really sure what he wanted to hear from them.

“Where’s San in that equation?” Yeosang said, his voice cold and firm.

“He still doesn’t know about it.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yeosang,” Yunho addressed their friend gently. Yeosang sounded as though he was holding back his anger.

“It’s our fault,” Hongjoong said. “We were the ones who kept it from him.”

“He never asked. Never cared about anyone but himself,” Yeosang continued, and when Yunho touched his shoulder and tried to shush him, he simply shook his hand away.

“How could he ask about anything he didn’t know about?” Mingi asked, glaring at Yeosang.

“Guys, please,” Yunho tried to calm them down.

“No, really,” Yeosang continued, unfolding his arms. “Can you remember the last time San asked you if you were okay? Any of you?” He looked around, waiting for the answer, but no one said anything, each of them avoiding looking at him.

“He’s been in a dark place,” Hongjoong said in a quiet voice.

“We’ve all been,” Yeosang objected.

“He loved Wooyoung,” Mingi said, still sounding rather annoyed.

Yeosang looked at him. “We all did. Not the way San loved him, but it doesn’t mean we loved him any less. Wooyoung was our friend, part of our family. The way he died was cruel and unfair and we’re still not over it, but we go on, because we have to. Only San stands still and doesn’t even try to catch up with us.”

“His doctor says he’s doing better,” Jongho interjected.

“If she means that he doesn’t scream in his sleep anymore and doesn’t look like he wants to kill himself, then yes, he’s doing better. But that’s it. I can’t even say that he’s _trapped_ in the past, because he was the one who locked himself there and he holds the key to that door.”

Hongjoong sighed. “I can see your point, Yeosang,” he said tiredly, and not even Seonghwa’s hand laid on his shoulder helped him to get over it this time.

“Look, I don’t mind if you tell San, I’m just saying that his opinion doesn’t matter to me anymore,” Yeosang explained. “But I know that it does to you and I can see that you are pretty much decided, so what’s the point of this debate? Let’s go find San.”

“He’s in his room,” Jongho said. “But I’m not sure if he’s practicing or going through old photos again.”

Yeosang looked at Hongjoong. The leader understood why the younger member was annoyed with San, why he distanced from him this much, even though he didn’t approve of it. Yeosang was just protecting himself from the pain all of them had gone through – and Yeosang was right that they hadn’t gotten over it. They all were still hurting and didn’t know what to do except what they had always done – work, practice, get better. Survive.

“Let’s go,” Hongjoong said with a light nod.

Seonghwa’s hand slid to his the leader’s back and caressed it lightly. Hongjoong’s eyes found his friend’s face and a small smile curled his lips.

“Thank you,” he mouthed.

The eldest member returned the smile, but didn’t say anything. Hongjoong understood and he was thankful. Seonghwa kept him calm. Grounded. He was Hongjoong’s anchor through this hard time and the leader couldn’t express how very grateful he was. With Seonghwa by his side, he felt a little more courageous to tell San the news.

***

A soft knock brought San back to reality. He winced and looked over his shoulder at the door that started opening slowly. Panicked, San minimized the window of a photo browser, but it didn’t help much since his desktop betrayed him with another photo from old, happy times. Wooyoung’s smile was dazzling and San had never mustered enough courage to change the wallpaper to something less hurting.

“Hey, San, are you practi…” Hongjoong started as he stepped inside, but hesitated the moment he saw the computer screen. “… cing?” he finished awkwardly.

San turned around to face the leader. There was no point trying to hide what he had been doing here anymore since it was too obvious. But when he saw the other members filing in, he regretted that he hadn’t opened an internet browser at least – simply anything that would have hidden his pain reflected on the computer screen.

“What’s up?” he asked as everyone got inside and Jongho closed the door. San felt nervous and his heart started beating faster. If the whole group was here, something must have happened. Probably something he was not going to like.

He eyed them warily. Each of them looked serious and that definitely wasn’t a good sign. Yeosang stood close to the door, his arms folded over his chest, and he was frowning at the photo on the screen. San bit his lip and moved a little to shield the view of the computer. Yeosang’s eyes met his then, but San couldn’t read them and when Hongjoong started speaking, he got distracted anyway.

“There are some things we want to talk to you about,” the leader said, looking as nervous as San felt, his eyes avoiding San for a moment. Seonghwa stood behind him and whatever he did, probably just touched him, it obviously helped Hongjoong to find his courage to continue. “The management of the company…”

“They want to give us a new member,” Mingi blurted out suddenly, interrupting Hongjoong’s slow and careful way of speech.

Everyone looked at the rapper in a mild panic.

“W-what?” San stuttered, his voice an octave higher.

“I told them you wouldn’t agree,” Mingi continued quickly, but Yunho nudged him in the ribs with his elbow, silencing him. The rest of the members wriggled awkwardly.

San’s attention moved back to Hongjoong. “Is that true?”

The leader took a deep breath. “Yes,” he said, shooting a glare in Mingi’s direction. “But nothing’s decided yet,” he added quickly. “The management wants to hear what we think about it before they do anything.”

“Absolutely NOT,” San said heatedly, standing up. His hands were clenched in fists, his breathing fast.

“I told you so,” Mingi muttered.

“Be quiet,” Yunho scolded him in a low voice. 

“San,” Hongjoong addressed him softly. “Can we talk about it, please?”

“About _what_?” San snapped, outraged. He looked around at the others. “Do you agree with it? _Do you?_ ”

“I don’t,” Mingi said immediately, getting a pointed look from Hongjoong. The rest exchanged awkward glances.

“Maybe that’s the best for the group right now…” Jongho said in a low voice, only barely meeting San’s eyes.

“Best!?” San cried in a high-pitched voice. “Are you kidding me!?”

Seonghwa stepped closer to him and put his hand on the outraged member’s shoulder. “Calm down, San. There’s no need to yell at us. We’re just telling you what’s been told to us.”

San turned to him, shaking Seonghwa’s hand away, betrayal burning in his heart so intensely that he thought he was going to turn into ashes. “Why?” he asked desperately. Why did they think anyone could replace Wooyoung? He looked around at the guys that were supposed to be his best friends, his family. He could see guilt in their faces.

“We haven’t given our answer yet…” Hongjoong tried to soothe him.

San felt how fast his heart was beating as he looked at the leader. “But you’re thinking about it,” he spat the words as if they were venom, accusing the leader. “How dare you? Eight makes one team! EIGHT! NOT NINE!” he yelled.

The members stared at him and he was suffocating under their gazes. He needed to get out, to put distance between him and them, to breathe freely. He felt strangely disconnected from everyone and everything around him. His body worked as if on autopilot. He hurried to the door, yanking it open and storming out into the corridor, not really knowing where he was going.

***

“That didn’t go too well,” Mingi commented quietly after San ran out of the practice room.

Hongjoong put his face in his hands, feeling Seonghwa’s arm wrap around his shoulders. He hadn’t been delusional, he had known that San wouldn’t agree, but he had expected him to cry and maybe plead and not to get angry. The thing about the new member wasn’t easy for any of them and down in his heart, Hongjoong didn’t feel comfortable with it either. His eyes stung.

He raised his head. Everyone was still there, looking at him with expectation, but what was he supposed to tell them?

“What are we going to tell the management? That we don’t agree?” Yunho asked in a small voice.

Hongjoong sighed, feeling the comfort of Seonghwa’s touch.

“I guess,” he said, feeling totally drained. “In the end, Yeosang was right,” he said quietly, glancing at the member standing near to the door with his arms folded over his chest. “We really shouldn’t have included San and just gave the company our statement. Honestly, I don’t want a new member, regardless of what is right or wrong. That’s how I feel inside. How about you guys?”

Mingi shook his head vigorously. The others followed his example in a more hesitant way, only Yeosang remained motionless watching the others.

“Yeosang,” Mingi addressed him, challenge in his voice. “Tell us what _you_ think.”

All eyes fixed on the named member, who took a deep breath.

“What I think is how much I hate this conversation,” Yeosang said calmly, but everyone could see how tense he was, “especially because we’re not truly talking about a possible new member, but about San and his feelings. I’m already sick of watching all of you afraid to so much as breathe Wooyoung’s name around him…”

Mingi glared. “How dare you!”

“Am I mistaken?” Yeosang asked him, his expression dead serious. “San is hurting, I get it, but aren’t we all? You guys act as if he has some special privilege…”

“What are you implying?” Mingi’s voice was low and dangerous.

“Do you think I can’t see how you coddle him?” The reproach in Yeosang’s voice could hardly be overlooked.

“Guys,” Hongjoong tried to prevent the possible fight. “Please.”

“No, I’ve had enough. I can’t do this anymore.” Yeosang’s voice was as cold as ice when he turned to Hongjoong. “Tell the management that we don’t want anyone. It was decided before San had his tantrum, anyway. But think about the consequences. The company will have to take certain steps if we don’t start working as hard as we used to.” 

“I know,” Hongjoong said with a sigh.

“Is it okay to leave San alone at the moment?” Jongho asked coyly.

“He probably needs to cool down,” Seonghwa mused.

“We all do,” Yunho announced, glancing at Mingi, who kept glaring at Yeosang. “Let us know when you talk to the management. Until then, we’re going to practice a little, right, Mingi?” Yunho turned to his friend and grabbed his shoulder.

That distracted Mingi from his glaring. “What?”

“We’re going to practice now,” Yunho said firmly, pulling Mingi out of San’s room.

“I have an appointment with my vocal teacher,” Jongho announced and left the room as well. Yeosang followed him without saying a word.

The two eldest members of the team remained alone. Hongjoong gave a heavy sigh and when Seonghwa’s hand squeezed his shoulder lightly, he felt grateful.

“You did well,” Seonghwa said quietly.

“I’m not so sure,” Hongjoong’s voice sounded as tired as he felt.

“Don’t beat yourself up over how they reacted. You did everything you could,” Seonghwa said softly, his hand still on Hongjoong’s shoulder. “You care about them a lot and they know it. They are not angry with you. They are angry with the whole situation and they are afraid of the future. To be honest, I am as well. But I am here for you.”

Hongjoong raised his eyes to Seonghwa’s face, meeting his gaze. The intensity of Seonghwa’s gaze made the leader’s heart beat faster.

“We’ll survive this,” Seonghwa said, his voice still low and soft, but full of determination and Hongjoong couldn’t help the small smile that curled his lips.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Seonghwa said, rolling his eyes, but he smiled, too. “Let’s go now, we have work to do.”

And that was right. Things started moving and they needed to adapt to the changing situation.

They needed to wake up.

***

The day went by and even though everything seemed normal, the bitter taste from the talk with San lingered. Hongjoong called the management of the company and informed them about the group’s statement. They were against the idea of a new teammate and wanted to continue as a band of seven. Surprisingly, they got an immediate ‘yes’, but under the condition they would work hard on their comeback. San included.

As much as Hongjoong hated to admit it, San was the weakest link. The leader was aware something had to be done about it. The problem was he didn’t know what. San was broken and his perception of reality was twisted. Hongjoong was afraid that pushing San into working hard again could harm him even more, but he also knew that giving San the benefit of his own pace wasn’t an option anymore. Hongjoong didn’t want to risk it and he was aware that talking to San about his current capabilities was inevitable. He also knew that as the leader, he was the one who needed to do the talking.

San must have left the company, because he wasn’t anywhere where the guys usually spent their time, neither in the mirror room nor the kitchen nor the gym, nor he had come back to his small practice room. Hongjoong didn’t think about it much, convinced that San had returned to the dorm to mope in his bed.

Hongjoong himself returned to the dorm relatively soon, finding the rest of the group – except San – huddled in the center of the living room around the food that had obviously been delivered just a little while ago.

“Here’s your portion,” Seonghwa said and waved at the leader. “Isn’t San with you?” he added immediately, looking somewhere behind Hongjoong.

“Isn’t he here?” the leader asked as he came up to the circle.

“No,” Mingi said and swallowed the food in his mouth.

“And none of us has seen him since the incident,” Jongho added.

Hongjoong’s heart sank. He already knew something was wrong.

“Haven’t you looked for him?” he asked with urgency seeping into his voice.

“I tried to call him, but he doesn’t answer his phone,” Yunho said, suddenly looking as scared as Hongjoong felt. “He probably doesn’t even have it with him.”

“Dammit.” The curse fell from Hongjoong’s lips too easily. He couldn’t imagine where they were supposed to look for San. “Couldn’t he just have gone to a convenience store?” His eyes met Seonghwa’s, but the eldest member shrugged helplessly.

“I think I know where he went,” Yeosang said, putting his chopsticks down and standing up.

“Where?” Hongjoong asked breathlessly, feeling panic slowly creeping into his heart.

“Cemetery,” Yeosang said simply, fishing his phone from his pocket and dialing someone’s number.

The guys exchanged looks, saying how dumb it was of them not to think about this sooner.

“Who are you calling to?” Hongjoong asked, still not sure.

“The manager to take me there,” Yeosang explained.

“Why you?” Mingi’s voice sounded annoyed, but Yeosang didn’t say anything this time as he started talking with the person on the other side. “Is it okay to let Yeosang go there?” Mingi continued while Yeosang was on the phone.

“Why not?” Hongjoong asked tiredly.

“Because he’ll be rude to him. San is in a bad place.”

“We all are in a bad place, Mingi,” Jongho said softly. “Maybe Yeosang knows what to tell San to finally make him come back to us. He is the one who knew Wooyoung longest. Let him try at least.”

Yeosang ended the call and turned to the rest of the group. “The manager is here in a minute.”

“Okay,” Hongjoong said with a sigh. “Maybe someone should go with you.” He would have gone with Yeosang himself if he hadn’t been the one who had brought San the bad news. 

“I’d rather go alone,” Yeosang said calmly.

In the corner of his eye Hongjoong registered Mingi wriggle restlessly, but the rapper didn’t say anything.

“By the way, what makes you think San went to the cemetery? He doesn’t go there very often,” Hongjoong asked Yeosang curiously. 

“Because he needs Wooyoung at the moment,” Yeosang said simply, and that was the moment Hongjoong thought Yeosang was probably truly the best person to bring San home.

***

San raised his head and looked up at the darkening sky. Night was slowly drawing closer, spreading its velvety veil over the land. The last rays of the sun kissed the face of the grieving boy, standing by the grave of his loved one. The tears on his face had dried a long time ago, but the wound in his heart was open and bleeding. 

Betrayal.

As much as he wanted to say he had been betrayed by the people he trusted most, it wasn’t like that. The members stood by his side and did everything they could to help him, even though their help was clumsy and ineffective sometimes.

It was he who betrayed himself.

He had known this day would come eventually and he had never done anything to prevent it. He had been drowning in his agony, giving in to the anger consuming his heart, yet unable to let it go. Unable to let Wooyoung go. He was frightened that if he let his guard down, he could hurt someone or hurt himself. Therefore, he had retreated into his inner world, into the world that was frozen in time with Wooyoung still present there, even though his presence hurt like hell.

“I want to go where you are, Wooyoung,” he said. His voice was low and soft, almost as gentle as if he was truly talking to his lover, but cold determination could be recognized in it.

His hand touched the headstone, fingers traced the lines of the beloved name, and yet he could feel no connection, no bond, which reminded him why he came here so rarely. The feeling of loss became stronger here, but at the same time, this was the only place where he could still find Wooyoung.

He needed Wooyoung.

He needed him more than anything.

He didn’t turn around when he heard footsteps. He wasn’t surprised that he had been found; he hadn’t doubted that someone would think of this place in the end. He was only taken aback when he heard Yeosang’s voice. The two of them had been slowly and silently falling apart, never voicing the problem, but feeling it was there. Therefore San had expected Hongjoong as the leader or Seonghwa or Yunho as his closest friends to come get him.

“Did coming here help?” Yeosang asked without any preface.

San turned to him, puzzled not only by Yeosang’s presence, but also by his question. He wasn’t sure what Yeosang wanted to know. Was this a trick?

Yeosang’s eyes were fixed on him, watching San intently. San felt naked under their gaze, feeling the protective layers behind which he was hiding slowly being peeled off.

“You came to take me home, didn’t you? Let’s go, then,” he said, his tone far from being friendly.

He wanted to go, but Yeosang still stood there, still gazed at him in that strange manner, making San uneasy.

“Yes, I came to take you home,” Yeosang said, and he finally looked away, turning his attention to the headstone this time, “but I came to see Wooyoung, too. I come here quite often.”

San stared at him, not sure how to feel about this piece of information. It wasn’t that he didn’t expect anyone from the group besides him coming to the cemetery; it was just that he had never given it a thought.

“I guess you didn’t notice. You’ve been missing a lot lately.”

“Is that a reproach?” San asked defensively.

“No, just a statement.”

San remained quiet and watched Yeosang come up to the grave and touch the headstone reverently. His fingers brushed the cold surface as if Yeosang was worried he could damage the stone if he used just a little more pressure.

“I’m mad at you, you know?” he said in a soft tone. “I’ve been mad at you for a few months already.”

San gave Yeosang a perplexed look. “Why?” he asked, curious.

The corners of Yeosang’s lips lifted into a small smile. “Now you care.”

“I didn’t know,” San tried to defend himself, but when Yeosang raised his gaze to his face, he felt heat in his cheeks.

“Didn’t you though, really?” the older boy asked, reminding San of all those moments when Yeosang simply hadn’t been there for him with everyone else or hadn’t looked at him with either warmth or worry and San had known that something was up. “You just didn’t want to acknowledge it,” Yeosang added and looked at the headstone again.

San didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure what Yeosang wanted to achieve with this talk.

“I miss him, too, San,” Yeosang said after a moment. “I miss him so much that I would burn the whole world down if it brought him back.” He turned around and looked at San, who could see fire blazing in Yeosang’s eyes – the same fire that had been consuming San’s soul little by little ever since that fateful night.

“He was my best friend,” Yeosang continued. “I knew him longest. I knew things about him you had no idea about. And I knew that he wasn’t just _in love_ with you, but he _loved_ you with his whole heart. He planned his future with you. After Ateez, he planned to stay with you.”

San felt how his heart started beating faster despite the pressure in his chest. He raised his hand and clutched the fabric of his shirt right over the place where it hurt most. He remembered the words whispered under the veil of night, uncertain promises, because who could have known what the future held for them? They had just been unclear plans both of them had been afraid to talk about openly. That future had still been too far.

Until it had changed completely.

“Why are you telling me this?” San asked in a choked voice.

“Just to remind you. Because you seem to have forgotten,” Yeosang said calmly.

“How could I forget? I loved him, too. I wanted…” San’s voice broke and his eyes started stinging. Why was Yeosang so cruel? Why was he destroying San’s protective walls, pulling him back into the painful reality?

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted. The only thing from the past that matters is Wooyoung and his legacy.”

“Legacy?” Confused, San stared at Yeosang, barely seeing him through the tears filling his eyes. In the darkness that had fallen while they had been talking, Yeosang looked like a shadow from a different reality, a messenger from the other world.

“Yes,” the older boy said, his voice clear and powerful. “What do you think Wooyoung would want you to do? What do you think he always wanted for you?”

San breathed in and when he wanted to answer, his lower lip trembled and a tear rolled down his cheek.

“You don’t need to tell me,” Yeosang said gently. “You don’t even need to live up to what Wooyoung wanted. He’s not here anymore and it’s your life. It’s your choice what you will do with it. I’ve finally made my choice and I’m sorry it took me so long. I was just so mad with everyone and especially with you. I am still mad, but I’ll respect your choices. I won’t leave you alone again – not only because Wooyoung would want me to be by your side, but also because you are my friend and you need all of us. I’m here when you need me and I hope you’ll be able to be here for me as well one day.”

San swallowed hard. He couldn’t see Yeosang anymore. The wet mist in front of his eyes became denser and the darkness devoured everything around, leaving him alone with his demons. He was unable to control his emotions anymore. He was so sad. He doubted he would ever be able to smile again.

Arms wrapped around him and he succumbed to the warm embrace. He felt safe in it and understood. For the first time since that terrible night, he felt a connection with someone. For the first time, he didn’t feel alone with his sorrow. And for the first time, he truly wished to be happy again.

That evening in the cemetery, standing by Wooyoung’s grave and crying on Yeosang’s shoulder, San made his decision. 


	8. Fighting for You

The trip home was spent in quiet, but it was comfortable this time. San could feel the connection between Yeosang and him and as strange as it sounded, it gave him strength to deal with the world. He was still scared; Yeosang managed to break his protective walls, leaving him vulnerable, but San was also hopeful.

He thought about the members. He owed each of them a big apology and a thank you for putting up with him the last few months. He must have been a true pain in the ass…

He realized he was nervous to see them after his lashing out at them back at the company. They didn’t deserve his being rude to them when everything they had done was being fair to him. He really hadn’t made things easy for them, pushing them away with his indifference.

He wanted to change that. He wanted to be part of the team again. He didn’t expect it to be simple, but he wanted to work as hard as he was able to. He was aware that he wasn’t okay, but he knew he couldn’t go on like this anymore. He needed to wake up. And there were six people willing to help him – he didn’t doubt them even for a second.

The dorm was silent when they stepped in, only the moderate sound of the TV welcomed them. Someone was obviously in the living room, waiting for them most likely.

“Will you be okay if I leave you now?” Yeosang asked.

“Yes. Thank you,” San said with a small smile.

Yeosang returned the smile and patted San’s shoulder lightly before he headed for his room. After that, San proceeded into the living room where he found the two eldest members sitting on the couch. Seonghwa watched the TV with the remote in his hand while Hongjoong sat beside him, his head resting on Seonghwa’s shoulder. The older member seemed not to be willing even to breathe in order to not wake the leader up. When San walked in, Seonghwa looked up at him, studying San’s face. San noticed relief mixed with concern reflecting in the older boy’s eyes and he realized how worried they all must have been.

“Hey,” he greeted quietly, coming closer.

Seonghwa’s eyes never left his face. “Hey,” he greeted back.

Hongjoong stirred and lifted his head, trying to focus his bleary eyes on San. He blinked a few times, still plastered to Seonghwa’s side.

“San?”

“Yeah, I’m home,” San said quietly, feeling ashamed for making the older ones worried like this.

A sleepy smile formed on Hongjoong’s lips and he shifted a little further from Seonghwa, patting the now vacant place between them. “Come here.”

San hesitated only for a moment. He wasn’t sure he should, but at the same time he wanted to. For the first time after months, he truly wanted something. A choked sound had left his lips before he made a beeline for the free spot between Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Both older boys hugged him immediately, making San feel safe and protected. He hadn’t experienced that feeling for a long time. He realized how empty he had been.

“How are you?” Hongjoong asked gently.

San sighed and succumbed more to the warm embrace. “Sad. And mad,” he answered truthfully. “I miss Wooyoung like crazy and I want to die, but I want to live as well and work with you guys and be happy again. That’s what Wooyoung would want me to do. He would want me to be happy.”

“We’ll help you with that if you let us,” Seonghwa said, removing a strand of hair from San’s forehead.

“We want you to be happy, too, San,” Hongjoong whispered close to San’s ear. “We also know that Wooyoung would want us to take care of you. We won’t leave you. We all are here for you.”

“I know. I’m sorry for the hell you had to go through because of me.” San sniffled, tears gathering in his eyes. He regretted how he had treated his friends, his family. They had tried hard, he knew that, and it was time for him to repay them for their efforts.

”Don’t apologize, San. You were hurting,“ the leader said quietly, trying to wipe San’s tears away.

“You were too,“ San protested. “And you still did all you could to help me.“

“Of course we did. You’re one of us,“ Seonghwa said, stroking San’s cheek lightly.

“Thank you.“ San sniffed again. He didn’t deserve so much kindness, and yet he craved every hug and every touch. His soul needed to feel that he was not alone. It needed to feel it and understand it and then reforge the bonds with the members. San wanted to come back to them on every level.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa held him in their arms, never letting go. San was grateful for that. They were like his lifeline, preventing him from falling deeper.

“I heard San was back… Oh,” Yunho’s voice disturbed them and when San looked up, he could see his former roommate. Hongjoong and Seonghwa barely loosened their hugs as they looked at Yunho as well.

“Welcome back,” Yunho said with a small, careful smile.

“Hey,” San said softly.

“Wanna join us?” Hongjoong asked.

“May I?” the uncertainty in Yunho’s voice was heartbreaking. San realized what he had done to his friends, how selfish he had been.

“I insist,” he said, and when a radiant smile appeared on Yunho’s face, suddenly the world seemed less dark.

“Are we going to sleep here?” Yunho asked as he wormed his way between San and Seonghwa, whose long arms were enough to hug both boys.

Hongjoong lifted his head. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. San, what do you think?”

San’s heart started beating faster and he realized it wasn’t because of anger or nervousness, but joy. He wanted the members, his friends, his family back in his life. He wanted to feel that he was back with them.

“I’d love that,” he said softly, not realizing that tears started rolling down his cheeks again until Hongjoong wiped them away, smiling gently.

“Great!” Yunho said and grinned happily. “I’ll go to get the rest.”

“Tell them to bring mattresses since the couch is already taken,” Seonghwa told him.

Yunho laughed. “Point taken,” he said and crawled off the couch. “I’ll be right back.” With that, he sprinted towards the rooms.

Hongjoong smiled, pulling away from San. “I think we should unfold the couch and get our pillows and covers in here.”

San nodded, but before he could get up and help the leader, Seonghwa took San’s face in his hands, looking him deep in the eyes.

“You’re not alone, San. You’ve never been, you’ll never be. Whenever you need anything, there’s always someone here for you,” he said softly.

“I know, hyung. Thank you,” San said, his eyes still wet as he looked at the eldest member. “I’ll try to be more… present from now on. I don’t promise I won’t suck at it, but I’ll try hard.”

A small smile settled on Seonghwa’s lips. “That’s all we need,” he said and pulled San into his embrace, hugging him close. San sighed quietly, wrapping his arms around Seonghwa hesitantly, but once he did, he held him tightly. He felt Hongjoong’s hand rubbing his back gently and after the many months of shutting himself behind his protective inner walls, he felt a connection with his surroundings.

“I love you guys,” he whispered in Seonghwa’s shoulder, letting his tears dampen the elder’s shirt.

“I missed you,” Seonghwa said, and that was when they could hear four pairs of feet enter the living room.

“Yunho said we’re sleeping here,” the voice of the youngest member sounded close by, confused and a little uncertain.

“Yes, Jongho, we’re having a sleepover in the living room,” Hongjoong told him. His tone was as clear and enthusiastic as San remembered from the times before the tragedy and it felt nice. It felt refreshing. San wanted to hear that tone more often.

He looked up at the rest of the members that joined them in the living room. Mingi and Yunho carried a mattress, already thinking where to put it. Watching them brought a small smile to San’s lips.

“Let’s unfold the couch,” he heard Seonghwa say by his side, and San nodded. Hongjoong helped them and a little later, the couch was ready for the three of them to sleep on it.

The members brought the rest of the mattresses and their pillows and covers. San didn’t talk much to the others, but the mutual activity made him feel like part of the group again. He realized how lost he had been during those months and tonight felt like a hesitant homecoming.

They got the couch and the makeshift beds ready for the night. The guys settled in their respective spots; Yunho and Mingi shared one mattress because they were too lazy to bring another one; Jongho and Yeosang placed theirs close to the two, so the four boys could sleep comfortably on three mattresses. San occupied the place on the couch between the oldest members.

“Don’t you need Kuma? Or Shiber, San?” Yunho asked as he sat down on the couch at San’s feet.

San looked around confusedly. His plushies. He remembered crying rivers in Kuma’s soft body the first month after the tragedy, but then his plush toys became just another insignificant part of the world that existed around him. San had simply stopped caring. He had stopped caring about himself and his needs. It was scary finding out how deep he had fallen.

“I…” he started hesitantly and looked at Yunho. “I think… I might need them.”

He found the smile that immediately spread across Yunho’s lips too radiant. It must truly have been bad with him if such a stupid thing made his friend this happy.

“I’ll get them for you,” Yunho said enthusiastically, jumping to his feet.

“Yunho! You don’t need to! I can get them myself,” San wanted to stop him, but Yunho was already halfway to San’s room.

“Let him. He wants to do it,” Seonghwa said, getting under covers.

San turned to him, wanting to say something, but all words left him when he suddenly found himself wrapped in covers and Hongjoong’s arms locked him in a tight embrace.

“We want to coddle you tonight,” said the leader, hugging San from behind.

“Hyuuuuung,” San whined, but he didn’t mind it in reality. Jongho and Mingi laughed and it was nice to hear that sound again. San had already forgotten what his most precious friends’ laughs were like.

“You can’t escape me now,” Hongjoong said in his ear, chuckling.

San whined again when the leader bit his ear playfully. His eyes found Yeosang, who sat on his mattress, watching them and smiling. His smile got wider when he noticed San was looking at him and showed him thumbs up.

“I’m baaack!” Yunho returned with his arms full of San’s two favorite plushies. “What did I miss?”

“Hongjoong is turning San into a burrito,” Seonghwa said, grinning.

The leader laughed in San’s ear. “That’s right! I’m going to eat him when I finish.”

“Please, no!” San tried to hide more in the covers.

“Awesome! May I have a bite?” Yunho said, his big smile brighter than the sun.

“If San allows it,” Hongjoong said and finally let go of his victim.

San tred to think when he had seen the guys having fun last. He realized it had been before his life turned into a nightmare. His eyes scanned the smiling faces around him, missing the one dearest to him. Knowing that he was never going to see it again filled his heart with new sorrow. When would this stop finally? It was so hard to breathe sometimes.

He noticed that Yunho was still watching him, the bright smile turning into an uncertain one.

“I… I’m kinda tired. Maybe next time,” San said apologetically, freeing himself from under the covers and extending his arms towards Yunho for the plushies. “Thank you for bringing these to me.”

“No problem,” Yunho said, the smile back on his lips, although a smaller one this time. “Whatever you need.”

San noticed that the rest stopped laughing as well and he felt guilty for that. He didn’t want to spoil the fun for the others.

Hongjoong ruffled his hair. “It’s late. We all should go to sleep,” he said gently.

San hugged his plushies. He couldn’t understand how come he had stopped caring about them. They had been his loyal companions ever since his trainee years and helped him through many hardships. How could he have forgotten about them? Maybe that was why he had been having nightmares…

“Everyone who still needs to take shower, go to do it. The rest of you brush your teeth and get to bed,” Hongjoong said in his leader’s voice and the members started getting ready for actual going to sleep. Hongjoong watched them for a few minutes while rubbing San’s back gently, and then turning to the younger boy.

“Are you all right, San?” he asked in a hushed voice.

San looked at him with a tired smile. “Yes, I’m just exhausted. It was a long day.”

“I know what you mean,” Hongjoong said gently. “Shower, teeth, bed,” he ordered San, who obliged gratefully.

After half an hour of a little chaotic organization in the bathroom, the seven members returned to the living room. San settled comfortably on the couch between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, feeling safe and protected between the two. Hugging Kuma, he faced Seonghwa. The elder took San’s free hand, holding it firmly, while Hongjoong hugged the younger boy from behind. San felt nice like this, important and wanted, but also a little guilty for making the members worried about him.

“Good night, guys,” Hongjoong said into the silence of the dark living room. Several ‘good night’s sounded after that, some said clearly, but mostly muttered into pillows.

San couldn’t hold his smile. “Good night,” he said as well and then closed his eyes, hoping no nightmare would disturb his sleep.

***

San’s wish wasn’t heard. In his dreams, he was chased by people who wanted to hurt him. There was nowhere to hide and he was so slow… so slow… so tired. So scared. He knew what would happen if they caught him. They would beat him and then dump his broken body in a park.

He woke up with a start, his heart racing and his breathing fast. He realized he was cuddled up to the sleeping eldest member with his arm wrapped around Seonghwa’s torso. Seonghwa slept peacefully, absolutely undisturbed by the body pressed to his. San pulled away, careful not to wake him up. He rolled on his back, noticing that Hongjoong was missing.

San sat up. The rest of the group was still asleep; Yunho and Mingi facing each other, Yunho’s arm resting loosely around Mingi’s waist. Yeosang was curled up under his covers while Jongho, turned away from the others, looked all soft and innocent with the light smile that played on his lips. But Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen. San thought that the leader had maybe gone to the bathroom, but he could hear no sound coming from there.

Knowing that he wouldn’t fall asleep again even if he tried, he decided to get up. He found Kuma at the foot of the couch and Shiber on the floor. He picked the plushie up and put it on the couch, then he got up, padding into the kitchen. He found the leader there, sitting at the table with a mug of steaming coffee in his hand.

“Good morning,” San said quietly.

Hongjoong raised his head and looked at him with bleary eyes. “Hello.”

San watched him for a few seconds.

“What?” Hongjoong asked.

“You look like a commercial for sleeping pills. Why don’t you go back to bed?” San asked and sat down at the table next to the leader.

“Tried, but couldn’t sleep.” Hongjoong sipped from his coffee.

“Too many things on your mind again?” San knew their leader. Hongjoong had the tendency to overthink things and the thoughts kept him up even when he was tired.

“Something like that.” Hongjoong sighed quietly, lifting his gaze to San. “How are you?” he changed the topic.

San shrugged. “Not good, not completely bad. I’m managing,” he said, looking around in search for a calendar. “When do I have the next appointment with the psychologist?”

“Tomorrow,” Hongjoong said without hesitation.

“Okay. Good.”

“Is something the matter?”

San shook his head. “I just… I’ll be busy today. I have a lot to write down, you know…”

Hongjoong looked at him with understanding. “Your diary.”

“Yes.”

Hongjoong smiled. “Fighting!” he said with enthusiasm, lifting his fist in a cheering gesture.

San gave him a small smile. “I will.”

“Good. I’m proud of you.” Hongjoong’s smile widened and he sipped from his coffee again. Then he stood up and turned to the kitchen unit. “What would you like to eat?”

“Um… anything,” San said.

“That’s not very helpful,” Hongjoong commented and opened the fridge. 

“Anything that was made by Seonghwa hyung,” San said innocently, watching Hongjoong, who pulled his head out of the fridge and turned slowly to San.

“Are you mocking me?” the leader asked incredulously.

San shrugged, his expression unchanged, but for the first time in a while he was actually interested in his surroundings and people around him.

“Hey!” Hongjoong cried. “I was nice to you!”

A smile tugged at San’s lips, small yet genuine.

“What’s going on?” a sleepy voice of the eldest member sounded as he entered the kitchen. His hair was ruffled and his pajamas a little disheveled, but Seonghwa didn’t seem to care. He shuffled towards the table to sit down in one of the chairs.

“Good morning,” Hongjoong greeted him, and San noticed that his smile became different, he just couldn’t say how exactly. “San doesn’t want me to make him breakfast. He only wants to eat what you prepare,” the leader complained.

“Oh?” Seonghwa reached for the mug of coffee Hongjoong had left on the table. Without asking, he drank from it as if that was the most common thing to do. Which actually was… as long as you weren’t called Park Seonghwa. And Hongjoong… He didn’t give a damn. If not giving a damn meant that his smile got a tad wider. San wasn’t sure what he was witnessing here. How much had he missed during those months?

“What would you like to eat?” Seonghwa asked without a second thought, turning to San.

“I’ll have pancakes, thank you,” Yunho, who had just come into the kitchen, said sleepily. He walked right to San, plastering his torso to his friend’s back, his head hanging over San’s shoulder. “Here you are,” he mumbled.

San wasn’t sure if he appreciated the close contact or not. On one hand, he finally felt the connection with the members again, on the other, Yunho leaning against him with his full weight wasn’t that much of a thrill.

“I heard ‘pancakes‘. I’ll have two, thanks,“ San heard Mingi, and in the next second, he was pressed to the table.

“Aaaah!“ San cried out. So not only Yunho, but now even Mingi used him as a camp-bed. Great... And instead of telling them off and saving San, Hongjoong started laughing.

“I think I’m going to make the breakfast before these two make a pancake out of San,“ Seonghwa said, reaching for Hongjoong’s coffee one more time and taking a proper gulp before he stood up and came up to the kitchen unit.

Jongho and Yeosang joined them soon after when the delicious smell permeated through the dormitory. Seonghwa fried pancakes while Hongjoong poured batter in the pan for him. Meanwhile the rest of the members got the table ready for breakfast. San brought plates, Yunho washed fruit and Jongho cut it into smaller pieces. Mingi and Yeosang stole a few pieces after they found spray cream in the fridge.

San realized that he enjoyed working on breakfast with the other members. He was part of the team, after all, and they used to do such things quite often before. Doing it again now felt like coming home after a long, exhausting journey. If only things weren’t different now…

Wooyoung’s absence became too obvious as San put seven plates on the table. The eighth unoccupied chair reminded him how much he missed Wooyoung and he knew he was going to miss him till the end of his life.

The members sat down around the table. San looked at the empty spot across the table between Seonghwa and Jongho and he couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up and went to bring one more plate. He put it in front of the unoccupied chair.

“Wooyoung is with us even when he’s not,” he said firmly. With that plate there, it really felt like Wooyoung was just about to join them for the breakfast.

“He’ll always be with us, San,” Hongjoong said gently. “Eight makes one team, right?” he looked at the rest. “One… Two… THREE!”

From their lungs, the seven boys shouted:

“EIGHT MAKES ONE TEAM!!!”

***

San sat on the mint-green couch in his psychologist’s office and watched the doctor checking his diary. He waited patiently, not saying a word, while she slowly turned several pages, her expression unreadable. That made San a little nervous. He doubted she would tell him he had done something wrong, but he really wanted to hear that he was finally doing better.

The doctor lifted her gaze to him at last. “You wrote a lot yesterday,” she commented.

“Yes,” San said coyly.

“Something changed.” She closed the diary and handed it back to San.

San took it, still feeling restless. “Um... Yes. And no. It’s hard to explain,” he said truthfully.

“Do you want to try?”

“I realized I was being selfish.” He gripped the diary tighter in his hands, feeling ashamed for the months he had spent in his little bubble of loathing and blaming the whole world for its unfairness.

“San, it wasn’t your fault,” the doctor said gently. “You didn’t feel well.”

“I know, but…” He looked at her again. “I needed to wake up. I needed to do it for the members and… and Wooyoung.” He spoke Wooyoung’s name a bit hesitantly, afraid what the doctor would say about it.

“You mean the thing that Yeosang said to you? That Woyooung would want you to be happy?”

San nodded. “He was right. Wooyoung didn’t like when people were sad. He always wanted to cheer them up. The last thing I can do for him is to be happy again. Is that wrong?” he asked with urgency lacing his voice.

The doctor smiled. “No, San, there’s nothing wrong about it. It doesn’t matter what your motivation is at the moment, whether you’re doing it for your dead boyfriend or the members. The important thing is that you’re determined to do it. And I’m positive that with time you’ll realize that you’re also doing it for yourself.”


	9. 8 Makes 1 Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> San's new start in life

_The day didn’t start well. I dreamed about Wooyoung. When I woke up, I missed him so much it hurt and I had no strength to get up. Luckily, Yeosang was there. He reminded me what was important. Go on. Try hard. Even if it’s not for myself. I know that Wooyoung would want me to fight and that’s what I’m doing. Even though it’s hard._

_The members are with me. They help me a lot. I know they won’t let me fall down again. I’m balancing on the edge of the well-known abyss, but this time, I can feel a lifeline pulling me back. I know that even if I trip, I won’t fall too deep._

_I practice dancing a lot. When I dance, I stop thinking and just lose myself in the rhythm. I got used to the sight in the mirror of not seeing Wooyoung dancing along with me. I know that the pain will never go away, but it is not as sharp as before. It’s rather blunt and heavy, but not as suffocating. It doesn’t make me want to die anymore._

_I don’t want to die anymore._

_I want to live. For Wooyoung. For the members. And for myself, too. I want to live the way Wooyoung would be proud of me if he was still here. I want to be happy again. I want to do things we were supposed to do together. I want to sing and dance and do it as if he was still here right next to me. In a way, he is. He is with me wherever I go. I will never forget him and I will always love him. I love him so, so much._

San shut his diary angrily. It only hurt more when he thought about Wooyoung, but not thinking about him felt like not living. San didn’t know what was worse. Wooyoung had become an inseparable part of his life and now, when he was gone, San felt as if he had lost a limb. He could live without it, but he would always miss it. His soul was crippled, but desperately wanting to survive. San knew that with the help of the members he would manage.

“Are you okay?” asked Mingi, who just stepped into the room. It was his turn to share the room with San this time.

San had found out only recently that the members had been doing the same for Yeosang. The two of them had talked a lot since the moment in the graveyard. Yeosang had told San that he had been having nightmares as well and hadn’t wanted to sleep alone in the empty room. Which wasn’t such a surprise, only San had been so focused on his own pain that he had never thought about the impact of Wooyoung’s death on the other members.

“I’m fine,” he said to Mingi, glaring at the diary. “I just…” he started hesitantly, but then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I’d say it does when you look like you’d love to tear that poor thing into pieces,” Mingi pointed out and leaned against San’s desk. “What is it?”

San sighed. “I just miss Wooyoung like crazy and I doubt it’ll ever get better.”

“It won’t,” Mingi said, putting his hand on San’s shoulder. “The only thing that will change is that with time, you’ll be able to think about him with a smile.”

San raised his gaze to his friend and they stared at each other for a few seconds.

“You sound like you know something about it,” San said in the end.

“I do,” Mingi said with a shrug. “I lost Wooyoung, too, and there are still days when it’s hard for me to think of the fact that he’s not here anymore. But then I remember what he was like, his laughter, his loudness, his playfulness… and those things make me smile again.”

San listened to Mingi and remembered all those things that had made Wooyoung who he had been. Wooyoung could be annoying, but San had loved having him around. Wooyoung had been childish at times, but he had been really smart. He had been a great singer and dancer. He had always shone with pride when people had praised him. He had loved cameras and cameras had loved Wooyoung. In San’s eyes, Wooyoung had been amazing.

San gave Mingi a small smile. “Thank you,” he said quietly and turned back to his diary. He opened it and reached for a pen.

“I can see you’re busy. I’ll leave you to it,” Mingi said, watching San. “I’m going to sleep.” After saying that, he climbed onto the upper bed.

The corners of San’s mouth lifted in a light smile. Mingi was’nt going to disturb him, but he was still going to keep him company. And that was actually very nice.

The tip of the pen touched the paper and new words formed. Words connected into sentences, sentences into paragraphs.

_We’ve started working on a new album and we’re also getting ready for an online comeback fan party. We want to remind people that we are still here, we just needed a little break after everything that was going on. The management is a bit concerned, though. Not because we’ve been on such a long hiatus, but because of all the rumors about Wooyoung. Will people be interested in us after having been fed all those nasty lies about him? It pains me to not be able to do anything about it. I feel helpless._

_Working helps me a lot. Even when I’m internally exhausted and don’t feel like doing a thing, work helps me to forget the suffering and focus on the task at hand._

_I have a routine. Routine is good for me as well. Hongjoong makes sure that I can keep things this way as long as I need to. I’m grateful to him. I know it takes a lot of negotiation with the management, but he does what he can. He does a lot for all of us. There were moments when I was worried about him, but then I noticed Seonghwa helping Hongjoong carry the weight of his responsibilities. The two of them really work great together. They stand by each other, support each other, they keep each other sane. Hongjoong takes care of us and Seonghwa takes care of Hongjoong. I feel kind of guilty for being unable to do anything to help them at the moment, therefore I’m working hard on getting better as soon as possible. I don’t want the members to worry about me anymore. I want them to feel that I stand firmly on my feet again. Which also means contributing to the upcoming events with my own ideas._

***

“Hongjoong hyung?” San called after he had knocked on the door of one of the four bedrooms in the dormitory and pushed the handle down. The door slowly opened, revealing the two eldest members. Hongjoong sat on his unmade bed, hair ruffled, clothes disheveled, cheeks pink. Seonghwa looked like he had just fallen down from the bed and stood up hastily, his shirt out of his pants, his breathing fast and the color in his cheeks matching Hongjoong’s.

“Y-yes, San?” Hongjoong stuttered, wiping his mouth.

San raised an eyebrow and glanced at the eldest member, who avoided looking back at him. Instead, he turned to the leader.

“I’m going to grab something to eat. Do you want anything?”

“Thanks, I’m good.”

“Okay, I… I’m going then,” Seonghwa said awkwardly, almost running past San out of the room.

_Not suspicious at all,_ San thought as he looked after the eldest, then he turned to Hongjoong again. “He didn’t need to leave,” he said.

“He was hungry,” Hongjoong responded and shrugged.

“Uh-huh.” San wasn’t utterly convinced.

“Anyway… What’s up?” Hongjoong asked, giving the visitor in his room a curious look. That totally turned San’s attention somewhere else. He flopped on the bed next to the leader, looking at him with hope in his eyes.

“I… I have an idea,” he said and bit his lip nervously.

“What idea? Tell me,” Hongjoong encouraged him.

“I’d like do a song cover,” San continued, nervousness still gnawing at him.

A big smile stretched across Hongjoong’s lips. “That’s a great idea! Do you already know which song would you like to cover?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point.”

“Then what’s the point?” Hongjoong asked, puzzled.

“I’d love to make the song for Wooyoung,” San confessed finally, “but I’m not good at writing lyrics… and you can rewrite them so beautifully… I’m also not familiar with all that stuff concerning recording… So I hoped… that… you… maybe… wouldn’t mind helping me with that…”

Once again, Hongjoong smiled at San. “Of course I wouldn’t mind. We can start whenever you want. I had an idea as well.” He stood up and went to his desk. From a pile of books and papers, he took a notebook. As he was walking back, he opened it on a certain page. He handed the notebook to San before he sat down beside him again. “I’ve started working on this song. It’s about dealing with the loss of a dear person. I didn’t talk about it to you guys, because I’m not sure about it. I feel like I’m losing the vibe of what we truly are going through. I don’t know… What do you think?”

San read the words, many of which were crossed out and rewritten only to be crossed out and rewritten again and again.

“You’ve been struggling with this song a little too much, haven’t you?” he asked as he studied the pages.

“That’s an understatement,” Hongjoong laughed humorlessly. “I want to put our true feelings in it. I want people to know how much Wooyoung meant to us and how much we miss him. But…”

“But it doesn’t sound right. The song is too sad,” San said, lifting his head from the notebook.

“Yes, I guess…” Hongjoong said with a sigh. “I know I’m missing something.”

“You are,” San agreed. “You’re concentrating on our feelings after the loss too much. That’s why the song is so sad. I can’t feel Wooyoung in it, only the pain of losing him. There’s no hope.”

“Okay, I get it,” Hongjoong said and crawled closer to San so that he could look in the notebook, too. “What’s your idea?”

“I’d concentrate on the times before the loss. I’d like to tell the story about happy memories, about the times when we had fun together, when we danced and sang and played games together. I’d want to tell the story about Wooyoung’s cheerful personality, about his loudness and his laughter… I’d simply want people to know not only that we miss him, but also _why_ we miss him so much.”

“Hmmm, you have a point,” Hongjoong agreed.

“I’d also love to tell them who Wooyoung truly was. That he wasn’t a junkie,” San continued, his tone serious.

Hongjoong looked at him with a contemplative expression and San could see how the wheels spun in the leader’s head. After a few seconds, Hongjoong nodded.

“We’ll do that,” he said determinedly. “How about you help me with this and I’ll help you with the cover?”

A genuine smile stretched across San’s lips. “Deal. Do you think we’ll manage to finish them both for the online party?”

Hongjoong sniggered. “If we work really, really hard, I don’t see why not.”

***

San’s days were suddenly filled with a lot of activities – something he hadn’t experienced for months now. He was so busy that he barely had time to think about his misery, which was great to a certain point. He knew he needed to be careful with his mental health. He was still skating too close to the abyss of despair, but this time the other members held San’s lifeline, not allowing him to fall into the darkness anymore. San fought bravely, trying hard to see the point of things he was doing. The abrupt dealing with a busy schedule and a lot of people around made him absolutely worn out at the end of the day. At least, the exhaustion granted him dreamless sleep.

He was aware that his motivation to endure the pressure was Wooyoung. Everything he did was for him. Every move he made, every step and every breath he took were to honor Wooyoung’s memory. San had made his choice. Ending himself would have been so easy, but that wasn’t what Wooyoung would have wanted him to do. Fighting the darkness within him, fighting with all he had for himself and for the love he held in his aching heart was the only way to go on. Even when a bad day hit him, even when he didn’t feel like getting out of bed, he didn’t give up. He knew he wasn’t alone. He had people around him to whom he could always turn and he did so every time he felt he needed a break from everything.

Everyone was patient with him, being aware that his problems wouldn’t disappear magically, even though he was working hard on getting better. Things needed time and San knew he needed to be kind to himself and not push too much if he didn’t feel like it. The support of the members and company management was a great help, because San’s level of stress was reduced and he could accomplish much more that way. He was satisfied with himself, even proud, and seeing the smiles of the others when he did well was like finding a little treasure. Gradually, San realized that he truly was doing these things for himself as well, even though the fuel for his willpower remained his love for Wooyoung.

Wooyoung was his everything, even though he wasn’t with San anymore. He was like a guardian angel, watching over San’s safety. San knew that it was just in his head – he idolized Wooyoung and his wishes – but the question “What would Wooyoung want?” always helped him to overcome the worst moments when he felt like submitting to his demons again. Wooyoung, despite being dead, was San’s link to life. And no matter how much it hurt, San held on to it with all he had. He didn’t just want to survive; he wanted to live his life to the fullest. Because that was the thing Wooyoung would want him to do.

San practiced hard with the other members. He sang, he danced, he worked dutifully on his song cover with Hongjoong, and he helped the leader with the new song. He also shared his view for the rap part with Mingi, discussing the lyrics with him a lot. Knowing how important this song was, the other members shared their ideas too. They worked on preparing the online event together and San found a certain pleasure in the shared efforts. He didn’t feel detached from the world around him anymore. One by one, he picked up the reins of his lost life and took control over it again. After the months of losing himself to nothingness, he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell Wooyoung’s true story during this event. He wanted to clear Wooyoung’s name of the nasty lies and show their fans who Wooyoung truly had been – a caring, loving, energetic person, who knew his responsibilities and acted according to them.

It was one of those hard days when San missed Wooyoung a little too much and doing things felt harder than normal. He was emotionally drained, having spent an hour trying to overcome his tears in Hongjoong’s studio after they worked on particular lines from the chorus of the new song. They were his lines and were actually quite cheerful, speaking about Wooyoung’s joy in life. That was the moment San cracked and couldn’t continue their work. He also started being worried that he wouldn’t be able to deliver those lines on stage, that he would break down, and that was unacceptable. But he didn’t want anyone else to sing them. They were his lines, probably the most powerful lines of the song, and he had already put so much effort and all his love into them that passing them off to someone else felt like betraying himself. He couldn’t do that. But he knew that pushing himself wasn’t good for him either.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa got him to the dorm after that, being super supportive – just like always. They took care of him, let him cry as much as he needed, held him in their arms, whispering encouraging words. Telling him how proud they all were of him for his trying hard and never giving up. They told him how much they loved him and were happy to have him back. San felt safe with them and soon, he calmed down and fell asleep on the couch in the living room.

He didn’t sleep well, stirring to consciousness from time to time, but too tired to move or say anything. One moment he heard hushed voices of the eldest members and when he cracked one eye open, he saw them standing oh-so-close to each other, Seonghwa’s hands on Hongjoong’s waist and Hongjoong’s arms wrapped around Seonghwa’s neck as though they were ready to hug. Hongjoong’s mouth was near Seonghwa’s ear, whispering something, but San couldn’t hear what. He drifted off to sleep again after that.

The next time he woke up, still without moving or opening his eyes, he could hear Yunho’s quiet voice. It seemed as if he was talking to someone on the phone, because there was no one responding to his words. A minute or so later, Yunho fell silent and there was the soft sound of steps coming closer.

“Sannie,” Yunho addressed him quietly and lay a hand on San’s shoulder.

San forced himself to open his eyes and look at his friend. Yunho crouched next to the couch and looked at him with a serious expression.

“The manager called. He said to turn on the TV. They are talking about Wooyoung on the news. Is it okay with you?” Yunho asked, studying San’s face.

San winced at hearing Wooyoung’s name and scrambled to the sitting position. “Y-yes,” he said, his voice raspy and uncertain. It had been months since Wooyoung’s case had been mentioned on TV last. “I can always leave if it’s something I don’t want to hear,” he said, a light tremble rippling through his body. 

Yunho studied his face for two or three more precious seconds before he nodded and turned on the TV.

“Guys! Wooyoung’s case on the news!” he shouted, and San cringed a little at the loudness of his voice.

“What? Wooyoung?” Mingi poked his head into the living room and then walked in, face turned to the screen.

Hongjoong ran into the room, Seonghwa at his heels. San wasn’t even surprised to see the two together again.

“What’s up?” Hongjoong asked, near panic on his face.

“The manager called me about the news,” Yunho said as he settled on the couch next to San. Mingi sat down on an armrest, eyes already glued to the TV.

“Why didn’t he call me?” Hongjoong asked incredulously, his brows knitting into a line as he pulled out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans.

San curled up in a ball, hugging his knees. He threw a glance in the direction of the two eldest. Seonghwa walked past Hongjoong and took the seat on San’s other side, his arm folding around the younger’s shoulders. San was grateful for that gesture, even though he didn’t react and watched the anchor on the TV. 

“I forgot to turn on the sound on my phone,” Hongjoong said with a sigh before he flopped on the couch next to Seonghwa. Yeosang and Jongho were at the company at the moment, following their personal schedules.

The boys had already missed quite a lot from the beginning of the broadcast, but what they managed to catch was absolutely enough.

_“… the police also revealed evidence supporting the testimonies of the victims, concerning the death of Jung Wooyoung. During the critical night, Wooyoung visited the club with some of his friends. After he had refused offered drugs and getting involved in the illegal activities of the club, he was attacked, drugged against his will and left in a park in critical condition.”_

San shuddered at the words. They sounded clinical and distant as if Wooyoung’s life didn’t matter, as if he was just another casualty of everyday struggles for having a little bit of morality.

_“The culprits stated that they had had no intention of killing their victim and had only wanted to scare him. They claimed that they had thought a morning runner would find Wooyoung and call an ambulance for him. Unfortunately, Jung Wooyoung died during the transfer because of serious injuries, exhaustion, and hypothermia. The culprits were accused of grievous bodily harm resulting in death and now are facing sentencing…”_

San covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, wet trails stretching down his cheeks. Wooyoung’s name was finally officially cleared and the people who had killed him were going to be sent to prison. Justice had won.

And yet, San’s soul was wrecked and nothing was going to fix it. Nothing was going to make up for the loss they all suffered. Wooyoung was gone and that was a fact.

He felt Seonghwa’s arms wrap around him and San gratefully accepted the warm embrace. Seonghwa’s cheeks were wet, his tears mixing with San’s as they grieved together. That pain would never go away and they needed to learn to live with it. At least they had each other. He felt Hongjoong press to him from behind, capturing San between Seonghwa and himself. San didn’t know what Yunho and Mingi were doing, but he believed that the hand that touched his shoulder in a rather shy manner belonged to Yunho.

San didn’t remember much of what happened after that. He didn’t remember getting to bed and falling asleep and he absolutely didn’t remember Yeosang and Jongho coming back home. When he finally started being conscious of the world around him again, Yeosang was bending over him with Jongho standing there too, both looking concerned.

“Hey, San,” Yeosang said softly when their eyes met. “How are you?”

There was pain in Yeosang’s eyes, but also the solidarity and understanding San and he shared.

San stretched out his arms immediately, reaching for Yeosang, pulling him into a hug that they both needed at the moment.

“I saw the news,” he said between sobs.

“I know. We saw it, too,” Yeosang said, and that summed up everything.

San cried into Yeosang’s shoulder and when he felt Jongho’s hand touch his, he captured it in a firm grip, squeezing it for support. Jongho let it happen, tangling his fingers with San’s, holding his hand while San allowed himself to get lost in Yeosang’s embrace.

“Why, despite his name being finally cleared, doesn’t it feel like enough at all?” San asked desperately.

“Because it’s not,” Yeosang said softly, holding San in his arms firmly as though he was never going to let him go. “But we can do something about it this time.”

San pulled away a little, his teary eyes focusing on Yeosang. “What do you mean?”

“The online party. We have to deliver his message to the fans. No one else can do it.”

“This is our chance to tell the world what Wooyoung really was like. Especially you,” Jongho joined the conversation.

San lifted his head to him, looking curiously at the youngest member while still squeezing his hand as if San’s life depended on it.

“You knew him in more ways than the rest of us could ever know him. Not only as his friend, but also as his boyfriend,” Jongho explained.

Yeosang’s hand touched San’s cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears that were still coming. When San turned his attention back to him, Yeosang smiled.

“His legacy lives in you,” he said, and San knew it was true.

*

The long-awaited day finally came. San had a problem containing his excitement, wanting everything to be perfect. He checked and double checked the props, costumes, animations for the performance. He talked to the dancers and the members, checking if everyone was ready. He got on everyone’s nerves, but no one said a word to him. They knew he needed this.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” he said to Yunho as they watched the staff preparing the stage.

Yunho laughed, wrapping his long arm around San’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “Come on! It’ll be great, don’t worry.”

“There are so many things that can go wrong,” San said, looking around, every part of his body itching to check everything one more time.

“There are always things that can go wrong, Sannie, you know that yourself. But we have a professional staff and we are not rookies anymore, either,” Yunho tried to calm him down.

“I know, I know, but…”

“Nuh-huh!” Yunho stopped San’s protest before his friend could finish the sentence. “Remember who we’re doing this for. What would Wooyoung say?”

San glanced at Yunho awkwardly. “That we should enjoy ourselves,” he mumbled.

“Right. Stop fussing, then, will you?”

San didn’t reply, looking away. He thought he glimpsed the eldest members walking backstage.

“I need to talk to Hongjoong,” he announced, untangling from under Yunho’s arm. He heard his tall friend sigh, but didn’t try to stop him. San liked to think that Yunho understood that restlessness that drove San to check and re-check everything. This event meant so much to him. Wooyoung didn’t deserve anything but perfection.

“Hyung!” he called as he reached the backstage area, but there was no sign of either Hongjoong or Seonghwa.

“Hongjoong hyung?” he called again, looking around.

“I saw him go to the dressing room together with Seonghwa,” someone from the staff told him.

“Thanks,” San said hurriedly, walking swiftly in the mentioned direction. 

The dressing room was spacious. There were many racks with various types of costumes the boys were going to wear during the event, coats and casual clothes, boxes with different sorts of accessories, boxes with make-up and plenty of other things such events required.

“Hyung?“ San called when he couldn’t locate Hongjoong anywhere in sight. He guessed that the leader must have been somewhere deeper in the room. And if he was truly with Seonghwa… The two seemed to be pretty close. Not that they hadn’t been before, the two of them were the same age after all, but they tended to spend much more time together lately than they used to. 

There were only a few people from the staff in the dressing room and even they seemed to be on their way out.

“Hongjoong and Seonghwa are in the back if you’re looking for them,” a girl from the staff told him as she was passing him by.

“Yes, thank you,” San said and proceeded deeper into the room.

As he walked, he could hear the familiar voices engaged in a quiet conversation. With every step he took, the voices became clearer and their tones were unnaturally gentle. 

“… thank you. I’m so happy to have you,” San heard Hongjoong say, and he realized that he was separated from the leader by just one rack of clothes. He just needed to take a turn just here…

“Now you’re being sappy,” Seonghwa’s response came immediately. So the two truly were there together.

One more step…

“Shut up. You love it,” Hongjoong said, laughing cheerfully.

“I love you.”

San stopped in his tracks. Never before had he heard Seonghwa use such a tone – gentle, but serious, as if the whole world was hidden in those words. San knew what it meant, because he had been on the receiving end of those words spoken in the very same tone more than once. When Wooyoung had said them for the first time, time had stopped and the world had broken into million beautiful pieces like a kaleidoscope. And San had been the happiest person in the whole universe.

Things about the two started to fit together like pieces of puzzle – why they spent so much time together, Hongjoong’s coffee which Seonghwa stopped asking permission to drink from, smiles and glances that were supposed to be stealthy… San knew all of that from personal experience.

“Park Seonghwa,” he heard Hongjoong’s voice laced with pure happiness. He could absolutely understand. The feeling of loving and being loved…

He understood that he became witness to something private and that he shouldn’t be here. He took a step back and wanted to turn around, but he bumped int the rack and the thing rattled loudly.

“Sorry!” he squeaked, poking his head from behind the rack, seeing Hongjoong’s and Seonghwa’s startled faces. “Don’t mind me. Continue. You guys are doing great!” he said, showing them thumbs up. “I’m so proud of you and Wooyoung would be, too. See you!” He wanted to run away as fast as he could.

“San!” he heard Hongjoong’s voice. “Wait!”

San paused and turned around. Hongjoong and Seonghwa came from behind the rack, both looking anxious.

“We can explain,” Hongjoong said, obviously nervous. Even Seonghwa was staring at him as though he had killed San’s kittens and now was drowning in guilt over it.

“I don’t need an explanation,” San said. “He loves you, you love him, love is blooming, and I’m happy for you, guys, I truly am. Wooyoung would be, too.” He had lost the love of his life, but it didn’t mean that people, especially the members of his own team, needed to tiptoe around him and hide their feelings for their special ones. “I noticed some time ago that something was going on between you two. Do the others know?” he asked in order to change the topic.

“We haven’t told them yet,” Seonghwa said. “We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first.”

San nodded. He understood that. He doubted there was anyone who understood it better than him.

He smiled at the two. “Whenever you decide to share it with the rest, I’ll be there for you. But I’m sure they’ll be as happy as I am. You look good together by the way,” he said cheerfully. For some reason, he finally calmed down. It didn’t matter so much anymore if the event would go without a mistake. Sometimes, little mistakes made things just that much more enjoyable for the audience. What mattered at the moment was the fact that people around San, his teammates, moved on with their lives and found their happiness. San realized he needed that more than anything. He needed to see their genuine smiles. He needed to hear them laugh freely without the fear of hurting anyone’s feelings. They deserved that. They deserved all the happiness in the world.

San suddenly found a new purpose in his life. Fighting for his own happiness was one thing. Trying to make the people around him happy was another.

“Thank you, San,” Hongjoong said, taking Seonghwa’s hand, their fingers tangling together. When they looked at each other, San could see everything he had felt when he had been with Wooyoung. These two truly loved each other.

“Anyway,” the leader interrupted San’s musing. “Did you need something?”

“Only to see you happy,” San said without hesitation, giving the eldest duo one of his dimpled smiles. Man, how long hadn’t he smiled like that? It felt so nice and refreshing. “We’re starting soon, so get ready.”

Hongjoong let go of Seonghwa’s hand and came up to San. He put his arm around the younger’s shoulders. “It’s great to see you smile again.”

“It’s great to see you back in the game,” Seonghwa said, smiling at San and wrapping his arm around his shoulders as well.

San took a deep breath and sighed contentedly. “It’s great to be back,” he said as he walked with the eldest duo from the dressing room to backstage.

*

The beginning was just a few seconds away. Everybody was standing in their spots, ready for the show, and when the director gave the sign and the music started playing and cameras rolling, the nervous tingling in San’s stomach intensified. He was excited for this event, but also anxious. How many people would watch them tonight? According to what the staff had said moments before the beginning of the show, there had been quite a high number of people already waiting fort it to start, but San was still afraid. What if they stopped watching after a few minutes? What if they didn’t want to hear Wooyoung’s story? What if they didn’t care anymore?

“It will be all right,” Hongjoong whispered into his ear before grabbing San’s hand and walking out on the stage. Yunho, Jongho, Yeosang, Hongjoong, San, Seonghwa, and Mingi – all of them held hands. San, walking between the two eldest members and feeling the protective grip of their hands, managed to calm his racing heart a little. Whatever happened, he knew the members would stand by him, would support him, wouldn’t let him fall. And he would do anything to make them proud of him, of his progress, of his will to live a happy life and his courage to stand on the stage with them again.

The music stopped and Hongjoong let go of San’s hand. The younger immediately missed the feeling of security coming from the leader and he gripped Seonghwa’s hand tighter. Seonghwa held him firmly, not letting go, and San calmed down again.

Hongjoong took the white mic that staff handed him and looked into the cameras. “Hello, Atiny,” he started speaking. “We want to welcome you to our performance tonight and we hope you will enjoy it with us. We prepared this event for you, our Atiny, to know that we are still here and thinking of you.”

He fell silent for a moment and breathed in. His free hand found San’s again and San held it as if his life depended on it.

“This event has a personal meaning for us,” Hongjoong said, and San’s heart started beating faster. “The last nine months have been very hard. We needed to deal with the loss of one of us. We lost Wooyoung and we miss him dearly every single day.” His voice trembled and he fell silent for a moment.

San squeezed Hongjoong’s hand in understanding. He felt a lump growing in his throat as he listened to the leader’s words and tears started gathering in his eyes. But he couldn’t afford to cry now. He needed to fight. They were doing this for Wooyoung and San was determined to do it right. Because Wooyoung deserved the best. Wooyoung deserved the world, but the world didn’t deserve Wooyoung. Maybe that was why he wasn’t in it anymore…

“Atiny,“ Hongjoong continued, and San could still hear the slight tremble in his voice. When he glanced at the leader, he noticed that his eyes glistened with wetness. Listening to those things wasn’t easy, but saying them must have been even more torturous.

“We know you’ve heard a lot during those months. Tonight, we want to tell you our side of the story through our performance. We want to share our feelings with you and we hope you will stay with us and enjoy what we prepared for you. We worked hard to bring you the best of Ateez under the current circumstances. We needed to make a lot of adjustments. But we also want to show you new things – a song cover by one of our members and a new song, both dedicated to Wooyoung’s memory.“

San took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He knew that a photo of Wooyoung appeared on the screen behind their backs, he also knew which one. He was the one who had chosen it, after all. Wooyoung smiling, mischief sparkling in his eyes, looking happy and relaxed.

“Through our music and the new arrangement, we want to express what Wooyoung meant to us,” Hongjoong continued, “and we hope that Atiny will remember him together with us. He’ll be always part of us, part of Ateez.”

A stray tear rolled down San’s cheek, but he didn’t wipe it away. Holding the hands of the two eldest members, he looked proudly into the camera.

“One, two, three…” Hongjoong counted, and the chant echoed in the hall:

“EIGHT MAKES ONE TEAM!!!”

*

The stage belonged to San now. He was here to set the mood, to say what was most important. He wanted to tell his part of the story – how much Wooyoung had meant to him. He was aware that even though there had never been any official statement about them being together, a vast number of fans had assumed that. And even though love wasn’t mentioned in the song thanks to Hongjoong’s adjustments, the lyrics were still about having someone important in one’s life, a soulmate, the other half.

San put his whole heart into the song. He totally forgot about the fans, he forgot about the stage, he forgot about the world around him. It was just him and the song and everything he wanted to say through it. He imagined his voice being carried to the place where Wooyoung was, he imagined him listening to the song San sang for him.

His vision blurred as he sang, his cheeks wet. And yet, his voice was steady and soft at the same time. His heart beat fast, pounding painfully against his ribcage.

The last tones of the song washed away. San looked to where he could see a flashing red light indicating where the camera was.

“I miss you,” he said into the mic, his breathing fast.

“Thank you, Atiny,” he added then and bowed.

He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders as he straightened up. Seonghwa. The guys were back on the stage with him. San looked at Seonghwa, wiping his tears away quickly.

“You did well,” Seonghwa mouthed and smiled. He couldn’t say it loud, because the microphone tightened to his head would catch the words that were supposed to belong only to San.

“Thank you,” San mouthed back, returning the smile. He felt the support of his team and that was what he needed right now.

Hongjoong lifted his microphone and started speaking again.

“Atiny, you’ve just heard our Sannie express his memory of Wooyoung through this cover. He and I worked hard together to bring to the stage the feeling San always felt when he spent time in Wooyoung’s company. This was his confession of everything Wooyoung meant to him,“ he said while San stood there, Seonghwa’s arm still wrapped around him.

“San, do you want to add anything?” Hongjoong addressed him, but San shook his head, wiping a stray tear from his cheek.

“No, you said everything,” he said, and his voice trembled.

Hongjoong gave him a small smile before he turned to the cameras again. “It’s not only San. All of us want to tell you through our performance what Wooyoung truly was like. We’ll sing our songs for you in a new arrangement and we hope you will enjoy the show with us.”

The boys spread over the stage to stand in their positions. The music started to play.

San danced as if it was for the last time. He sang as if he believed that his voice could reach the places where Wooyoung was. He put his whole heart and all his love into this performance. He didn’t do it for either the fans or his teammates. He didn’t do it even for himself. Everything he did, every move and every step, every tone and every syllable was for no one else but Wooyoung. This was San’s last goodbye to his love; this was the closure he needed.

He did great. His heart beat fast and excitement rushed through his veins like a wild river. San enjoyed every second of this event and for the first time after many long, desperate months, he felt happy again.

Even when he was out of breath, even when sweat kept rolling down his face and dripped on the floor from the tip of his nose and chin, he was quite sad when the event drew close to its end.

“Atiny, we want to thank you for staying with us and listening to our story,” Hongjoong said after the music stopped playing and the boys stood in a line on the stage. “Each of us chose a song we wanted us to perform for you and after a lot of discussion, we were able to bring you the choice of songs that fit Wooyoung’s nature most. We want you to know him the way we knew him. Wooyoung enjoyed life and he lived it to his fullest. He had a cheerful personality and liked teasing others.”

“I knew him the longest,” Yeosang said. “He was that type of friend you could always rely on.”

“He was playful and very energetic and also a great dancer,” Yunho added.

“And always got what he wanted. You simply couldn’t resist him,” Mingi followed the queue.

“He was also very helpful and you could never be sad for long when he was around,” Jongho said, his voice low and trembling.

San gripped Seonghwa’s hand. Listening to the members saying all those nice things about Wooyoung made his heart swell with love and gratitude. This moment wasn’t just for Wooyoung; it was for him as well.

“Wooyoung knew how to bring comfort when times were hard,” Seonghwa said in his calm tone. “He was a precious friend of mine and I will always miss his smile, his laughter, even the neverending teasing. He was the one and only of his kind.”

San’s vision blurred once again as he heard Seonghwa’s words. The eldest member had a special place in Wooyoung’s heart. Wooyoung had always liked testing Seonghwa’s patience just for fun, but he never went so far as to actually hurt him. And Seonghwa never seemed to mind; he had even looked quite happy about the attention. San completed the WooSanHwa trio that Wooyoung refused to acknowledge publicly just to make fun of their hyung. He and San were a single unit in Wooyoung’s eyes – they had their motto and handshakes that belonged only to the two of them. But Seonghwa had the privilege of being their number three.

When it was San’s turn to say something nice about Wooyoung, he remained quiet for a moment, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Wooyoung…” he started, but it was hard to speak through the lump that had grown in his throat.

Seonghwa let go of his hand and caressed his back. “It’s okay,” he said calmly.

San took a deep breath, barely seeing the red light of the camera. His face was wet with tears again and he was unable to stop them.

“He… he was my everything,” he breathed out in the end and turned around from the cameras, hiding his face in his hands. The microphone tightened to his head caught the sob that escaped his mouth.

The members gathered around him. Someone rubbed his back soothingly, another one his arm and there was also a hand stroking his hair.

“San,” he could hear Hongjoong’s calm voice. As rappers, Hongjoong and Mingi were the only ones equipped with hand mics, so they could speak freely without the fear of a mic catching their voices. “San, it’s okay. You’re with us. We are here for you. We’ll sing the last song now. Okay? Can you do that?”

The last song. The one they had put everything they felt into. The one specifically written and composed for Wooyoung. The most important one. San singing it with the rest of the group was important. He had to do it. He could do it. He would do it for Wooyoung, for himself and for the team.

He nodded and wiped his tears quickly. He turned around and the guys got back in line.

“We miss Wooyoung very much,” Hongjoong said into the camera, his free hand on San’s shoulder, “and we hope that our words and our last song can reach him wherever he is. It’s a song each member participated in creating either with their work or ideas. We want to sing it to you today. The song is called _A Precious Memory_.”

Again, the boys got in their positions and the music started to play. The song, even though it was about the loss of someone precious, was rather cheerful – just like Wooyoung. Their voices brought back the days when there were still eight of them, together and unbothered, laughing, playing, teasing each other and having fun, dancing and singing, working hard. Getting tired and sleeping on whichever couch they could find. Looking forward to events, doing their best on stage.

The last tones of the song carried through the hall until they fell silent completely. San felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest. The event was drawing to its end and it felt like San was losing Wooyoung once again.

Yunho put his arm around San’s shoulders, leading him to the rest of the members. They didn’t care about the given order of the line they usually stood in anymore and stood as they wanted.

“This was our last song for today and also the last piece of our story,” Hongjoong started speaking again. “Wooyoung…”

“He was energy!” San cried out suddenly, repeating the words from the chorus.

“He was passion! He was life!” the rest of the members joined him.

“He was Wooyoung!” San shouted again, turning to the big screen behind them. A photo of the eight of them was there, all of them looking happy. Wooyoung had been the one taking the photo, so, naturally, he was the one in the front. San stood right behind him, hugging Wooyoung around his neck. The rest of the group was gathered around them, big smiles on their faces.

“Yes, Wooyoung…” Hongjoong seemed to want to continue. He turned to the photo as well together with the others and fell silent again. Seonghwa’s hand gave his back a little encouraging caress.

“Wooyoung…” Hongjoong tried again, “he has never left us. He’s still here, still with us, we carry him in our hearts,” he said, still staring at the photo just like the rest of the group. “As I said at the beginning, he will always be part of this team. Because…” He turned back to the camera, the boys following his example. “One, two, three!”

“EIGHT MAKES ONE TEAM!!!”


	10. Epilogue: The Last Goodbye

San sighed into his pillow. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Tonight, he had shown his best performance ever and he was sad that Wooyoung couldn’t share it with him. He had thought he would feel better after the event, but the truth was there remained an empty space in his heart. Tonight, he had let go of the past completely. He had started a new chapter of his life without Wooyoung by his side and that fact scared him. He knew he had people around him whom he could lean on, but the choice to live the best he could was his and his only.

In his thoughts, he returned to the moment when the group had come back home late at night after the performance. Usually, the group was loud after such events. They used to joke and laugh and talk about memorable moments. They used to be up till the early morning hours, until they felt too tired to stay up any longer.

Today, they had been calm. Even when they gathered in the living room, there was no cheerful shouting, no loud laughter, no teasing. They talked, yes, they even laughed, but it was mostly quiet and short-lived laughter. They complimented each other on their performances, shared smiles and heartfelt hugs until they decided it was time to turn in. The guys talked about who would stay with San that night, but he said he would sleep alone this time. Even if he had had nightmares, he didn’t want to bother anyone. The members needed their rest and San needed to process his feelings on his own.

It had taken him some time to convince them that he would be fine and that they should get proper sleep. Especially Hongjoong needed a little more persuasion before he gave in. In the end, he took Seonghwa’s hand, giving him the smile that could melt icebergs, and pulled him towards their room. San watched them, hoping that their story would be different than his, much happier. He could see the hearts in Seonghwa’s eyes as he followed Hongjoong; the world around them stopped existing. San wondered if he and Wooyoung had looked the same and he couldn’t hold back the smile that formed on his lips.

“They finally gave up on hiding what’s between them,” Mingi said as he stood up from the couch.

“Actually, they never really tried hiding it in the first place,” Yunho pointed out. His mouth opened wide in a big yawn he didn’t even bother to cover with his hand. Yeosang did it for him with a soft chuckle.

“They probably knew you would make fun of them. That’s why they didn’t say anything,” San pointed out.

Mingi shrugged. “They can’t avoid it forever. We’ll make fun of them sooner or later, anyway,” he said with a lazy, yet mischievous smile.

“Yeah, yeah, leave it at least for tomorrow, okay? Now come to bed,” Jongho said, patting Mingi’s shoulder, pushing him gently in the direction of their room.

Lying in his bed an hour or so later, San smiled into the pillow as he thought about those moments. He was sure that Hongjoong and Seongwha were going to face a lot of teasing the next day.

“Do you remember how they used to make fun of us?” he heard a familiar voice, and he raised his head. Magically, his tiredness was suddenly gone as he saw the well-known toothy grin.

“You mean when Seonghwa said ‘WooSan, disband’? Or when Hongjoong complained that we were being annoying with our handshakes?” he said, a smile spreading across his lips as well.

“For example.”

The figure standing in the room came closer and sat down on the edge of San’s bed.

“You can repay the favor now. I bet they’ll be more annoying than we used to be.”

San’s fingers slipped into his visitor’s hand. He was amazed how warm and solid it was. “How come you are here?” he asked, his eyes searching the face of his lost love.

“You’re kidding, right? Wasn’t the whole thing meant for me?” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but the grip of his hand became firmer. “I couldn’t miss that, could I?” The smile was back on his lips, warming San’s heart.

“Did you like it?”

“I loved it! You did great, Sannie. You made me really happy. You’ve finally started living and I’m so proud of you.” Wooyoung gripped San’s hand in both his palms, holding it close to his chest like something precious. 

“It’s still hard, you know,” San whispered, sorrow in his tone.

“I know,” Wooyoung said, “but it’ll get easier step by step, day by day. I promise.”

“I miss you so much,” San breathed out.

Wooyoung leaned in, pressing his forehead to San’s. “I’m still here,” he assured. “You can’t see me, but I’m here, watching over you. Always.”

“Wooyoung…” San sighed, cupping his lover’s face with his free hand. He could feel Wooyoung’s warm breath on his face. San’s eyelids drooped as soft lips touched his mouth, the kiss as gentle as the touch of butterfly wings and yet as sweet as he remembered Wooyoung’s kisses to be.

Gradually, the soft sensation turned into nothing and there was no warmth under San’s fingers. He didn’t open his eyes, trying to avoid reality just for a little longer. In the silence of the room, San caught the almost inaudible words carried to him from far-away lands:

_I love you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who read this story liked it and left kudos, special thanks to the people who left a comment too. Surprisingly, this story was rather easy to write. Even though I had a plan where I wanted the story to go, I was still curious what was going to happen next, how San was going to react and what role the other members were going to play in the story.
> 
> Big thanks goes to my betareaders Chercherin, who helped me a lot with the idea and separate scenes, and Ravenshell without whom my grammar would be really poor. 
> 
> And the last thank you to Ateez, who make my life happier :)


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